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......
In this edge of the end
Where simplicity flows
Through the straight river
The upstream songs
As the ****** sunshine of Lost spring

There today,
Exhausted Myna drying feathers
In the wet air
Sitting on the shade of the window
Steadfast attention on the distant horizon

Slothful day in a comfort bed
With a cup of tea
A longed cigarette,
Romanticism become struck

Outside the open window
Inside out
Light clouds of August
As if the "will" cradling to and fro
Dropping the ageless poetry
Filled with the words of dance

Rain comes down on the unleash field
Essence of mystic tunes flowing
From the tearful trots of rains
Moving, Flooding
The both sides of the river
..............
@Musfiq us shaleheen
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|                     |
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a
single
star
as
seen
through
my
window

­who
knew
stars
could
be
held
in
a

*box?
☆☆♡♡♡ HELLO POETRY ♡♡♡☆☆

Thank you all so much for your support of my work! This was such a pleasant surprise!
I wish I could thank each and every one of you who is commenting and responding to this piece. Unfortunately things are happening at my home which are beyond my control. My dad wasn't feeling well. He's better now but he still has a lump in his right cheek. He had had cancer at the base of his tongue and this is in the same area. Thank you for your prayers and well wishes! They are greatly appreciated!

I'm just putting everything in God's hands.
"INKS OF TRUTH"

A dedication

For Soul Survivor

''~~~~~~
There's A City called Hello Poetry
And in this city,
Lives A Woman of many colours
A Poetess with a kind heart
A Poetess of Class
A Woman that loves to care for all
She's a kind soul
Meandering through this city,
She has a heart devoid of hate


* A Motherly nature
Always hoping everyone is well
Find this woman and
Appreciate her
For her heart is pure
And Soul too kind
Have you heard about Soul Survivor
Or call her Catherine Jarvis?
She is the woman
She is a Mother
A Mother of Hello poetry
Find her now and appreciate her*

Ovi Odiete©

Dedicated to Soul Survivor
This may not be a poem, but a dedication to a Poetess who has a kind soul
Would that life was like the Twilight Zone
Twists and turns of fate
Where paupers become princes
And Emperors lie in state

Where neglected little children
Receive their every need
And appropriate masks are given
For vanity and greed

Where old folks Kick the Can
And become boys and girls
Is there such poetic irony
In the real world?

Yes! "The Donald" lives and breathes!
Hate surely his mission
He gives me the dry heaves
He's touted by "The Christian"!

Does faith espouse malevolence?
If so, tell me when?
And would such a hater
Be truly Born Again?

Of the people he attacks
There's surely no great lack
But his pointed finger
Has three more pointed back!

No, I am not for Hillary
I'm not lured by siren call
I really hate to say this
But I may not vote at all!

The poetic irony
Was right there from the start
"Trump" is a "Brittishism"

It is defined as ****!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 8/14/2016
~

in the seasonal divisions of life,
is one equation most oblique;
the only ’rithmetic i know,
where sum of two in equal parts,
as one and one makes two a whole;
yet even more is this unique,
for ’tis the after-math and struggle,
the dance of life that matters most;
the after-candles, songs and marches,
the after-promises and vows,
after-gifts and floral arches,
after-dancing, cake, and toasts;
when gritty feet meet dusty road,
where those content to sit, jump out,
and those who chose the work, dig in,
here is where the after-math begins.

where spoken word and actions,
the blend of individualities,
smelting of their personalities,
when lovely couple’s faces,
no longer picture-perfect,
where smiles frozen turn to icy stares;
when agreement turns to disagreement,
and enchantment, disenchantment;
when to each the other is,
persona non grata...
a most unwelcome sum;
persona incognito...
hidden truth to everyone;
persona invisibilia...
game of hide and seek;
persona silentium...
"you can’t make me speak!"

yet all of this could just as easily be,
the sum of two,
grateful hearts in equal parts,
the beat of two in rhythm thrum,
march in time upon one drum;
where stumbling toes find eager feet;
back-handed words are gently turned, to
two-hands-to-back, a press,
on tiptoe, a softened kiss;
where hard-pressed, unkind learnings
are equal matched with kind forgivings.

e pluribus unum...
building block for nation,
works beautiful for couples, too!
’tis the only one i know,
defies the odds to work,
defines how two can grow,
turns tear-filled words to fireworks,
makes winning out of winters cold;
turns wincing into cinching,
knots that is, joined and tightly tied,
before two hearts have grown too old;
this then here, the after math,
a two-cords-tied-as-one accord,
blending melody with harmony,
production of a music-making,
ovation-worthy, heartbeat song;
a two-in-one, two-for-one,
two-as-one with rich reward;
sum of love for lifetime lasts,
perfect kind of after-math!

~

*post script.

a wedding this week came and went, but left this minder in its wake, hard beating in this mind as my body woke, begging for words in ink, pleading to be let out.  in marriage, my own is far from perfection, as am i, yet as close to heaven as i have known here on earth. do believe that i know that it cannot be just one; but takes two hearts, two wanting, two hoping, and two forgiving, to make one that lasts!
she is by far the more so in ours.
is this craft that chose you, not defined by machine millimeters,
precision absolute, curvatures, so eye-pleasing,
they demonstrate no tolerance for tolerance of the
ordinary?

*the skill of words, too, cut so fine,
find the  extraordinary within, refine, refine, refine,
shave away the trite, the reused, discard the instant recognition,
unusable
part of http://hellopoetry.com/poem/958457/machinist-tool-thyself-for-joe/

written by me in a different guise
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