/
Many days
I do not read any newspaper
Even do not see television
At all
Many days have gone
After You
I do not read any poetry

How to feel that since this morning!
Repeatedly hear identifying tunes on the air

Your arrival in the sky,
The air reverberates
Looks like another day
In the Paradise,
In another song,
Which brings the soul
The Aroma

Everyone is coming out
From all sides
Young Old
Babies Boys
Women Men
Everyone
Everyone is clapping
Singing the song of the same tune
This song is not the song of Rain
Not even a lamentation

The Southern breeze whispering your words
Slowly Said,
The Little Tailor Bird
No, No,
Not such a summer afternoon
Not even a hurricane warning

Each of the human eye
Follow the Eastern Sky  
Tireless Eye
Watching the sun,
The Red Sun,
You went to bring dreams for us
From the Sun

Hundreds of thousands of people
In his next question
Hand with Flower
Shoulder to Shoulder
Today will be the day of strangers,
The poet will come
We are standing in the flowers
Fist full of dreams to take

Float in the sky with white clouds
My dreams are calling again
Today is not such an Autumn
But Still feel like an Autumn
Indeed,  
The poet will come,
A poem in the New

Where each word will be spoken dream
Love to be evacuated
Poems that will repay
The debt to my Ancestor
Take revenge on thee
For their injustice,
Torture
Poems that would bring the stars
For our next generation
A poem that would bring the red rose for my darling,
Would bring such a smile to my mother's face
As Moon that smile
And that is simply killed false dreams
Will we ever Released
Sing Freedom Songs

The Poet,
My beloved Poet
You will come,
Will surely come
And will recite your immortal poem
/

@ Musfiq us shaleheen

Those tears forced to manifest
By poison thoughts of venom fears
Are old news to me.
I've cried them too, you see.

Those knuckles white around
Princess Paranoia and Marquis Mortality's
Slender wrists will not hold
Their punches back.

That pound of ice in your stomach
Is the worst our foe Fear can do.
I will share this with you.

You think back, back nearly broken by
The weight of grudges.
Bitter bag on your tired shoulder,
Barbed wire strap biting.

I've been to darker places
Than you will ever see.
Share your blackest burdens with me.

I fear no man, nor god.
I've paid my rent with sweat and blood,
The next payment is far from due.
I will share that time with you.

My hours on Earth are mine alone,
But no terms are written in stone.
I like it down here.
Liking I'll share.

That warmth on your face  
Is only my hand.
Your guardian angel is merely
A man.

Both scholar and warrior, and girl,
I have learned:
The skin has grown back on the hands
That I've burned.

You can choose to cry,
You can choose to smile.
I learned that truth, but it
Took me a while.

I have seen the Devil. He was pleasant,
He was kind.
I have seen the face of God,
It was yours and mine.

We have the power to create.
It's not in vain; not too late.
Let us face this storm together.
We'll be the gods of weather.

The choice is yours, it is true.
You are the foot, not the worn-out
Shoe.
You are not the sky; you're

The Blue.
You'll never need my comfort,
But until you stop believing that
You do,

I will play your game
Like a loving parent;
Having given you room
As you grew.

I will share this
With
You.
I will

Share
This poetry  
With
You.

Bullet and blade
Have ended
Many a friend.

Some were warriors
Living by sword, others
Just unlucky.

No one safe from
Anything. I buy her
Pepperspray instead of

Flowers these days.
Keep leaving
Butterfly knives in the

Pockets of her coats.
I am a man of non-violence,
But one with worlds to lose.

I miss the days when the fight
Ended as ground was hit.
Knuckles and bones were

All we needed; men fencing
For themselves with nothing
But themselves,  

And women were there to be
Charmed and fought over. Not
Left torn and terrified

In a ditch, broken beyond repair,
Their men helplessly wielding
Lead and steel at the absence

Of the animal responsible.
I'll buy her flowers today.
Flowers, and walk her home.

Bullet and blade
Have ended
Many a friend.

The weight of their
Tragedies is about the
Same

As that of the crates of ammunition
It takes to keep the world
Safe from the threat of itself.

.                                  Even if I compressed galaxies
                             Into a nebulous ink of stardust dew,
                             It would fail to, with words, describe,
                                  The beauty that's contained
                                                  In You.

A fading shade; built with care
once bright, now reminiscent
of coming winter.

Time-bent frame; piney dreams
of summer days, gone
now splintered.

Binding rings; stretching link
rusted chains, cold rains
blow bitter.

r ~ 5/12/14