Tempus pro nemine manet*

It's the day there comes
a knock on the door
and you open it to find
a government agent
with a glowing, hot iron.

You drop your drawers
and OLD is eternally
branded on your ***.

It is painful, sad,
absurd and funny.

Sweet relief, too.

Never again must you
worry about getting old
or dying young.

You are old. It is official.

From now on there is
only older and older
until there isn't

and then the mystery.

Merrily, merrily,
merrily, merrily,
life and death,
but the same dream.

Her blue hips carry me into her womb,
where the melody of her crashing waves sound like the notes of an ethereal harp dancing through the chilled evening air.
Among all the lost messages in glass bottles floating through a liquid eternity, one read the name of her lover,
who ripped her heart from the sea.
Eventually, each bottle washed up into the arms the shore,
Yet,
The bottle that contained her lover’s name remained in the curves of the ocean, traveling through her body's maze.

My heart breaks at the sound of her faint, musical wheeping.
So I am with her, within her cold, salted embrace.
Submerged,
I open my burning eyes to watch her story.
I love the way her current cradles me with aching love-
And now I can see
That the strength within her current,
Can wash away the grief of a fractured heart.


© 2016 D.M.V

You are in front of me this is the only truth
I can touch you and kiss you with my eyes
My soul is in trouble only you can sooth
Beauty must understand heart to heart cries

In life there are just very many real instances
Beauty blooms to take heart and soul together
Your sweet eyes help to take me many chances
Let me to take you along to enjoy the weather

Love me  and make me yours for heart solace
Be mine in this real jungle of the human beings
Let me follow you from pace to pace with grace
Springs invite you to touch all my heart strings

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow