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RW Dennen Jan 2015
Fishing for my heart
has
   the hook
for
my being
  Jan 2015 RW Dennen
BarelyABard
Wrap the thorns around my wrists like serpents slithering for a feast;
the ones who breed to bleed me dry unknowingly making me feel alive.

I'll bathe myself in light from a masochistic moon and listen to shadows on the walls moan in pleasure,
a deadly pleasure
that echos through my haunted veins;
wrapping their legs around my waist
and running their fangs across my lips.

They dig their claws and I pull them closer
hiding a smirk that even they cannot see, for I'm the boy you can't destroy
as I make love to
demons in the dark.
I am in love with everything that kills me
/
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
/
dear respectable fellow poet, poetess readers
if you like this poem please share your comments and repost the poem.
I will be grateful to you.....
/
RW Dennen Jan 2015
Death and destruction
Hidden suicide bombers
"Iraqi Freedom"
RW Dennen Jan 2015
Exploding anti-war rally
with people of intelligience,
ends in dull silence
BACK TO ZOMBIE LAND
RW Dennen Jan 2015
Iraqi Mother cradles child
Sudden incoming bomb shrill
Nothing but rubble
Not only did our troops get the ***** end of the deal
Also innocent civilians as well as the rich got richer
I really feel anguish and sorrow for both sides in general
I take no sides, only against these filthy rich profiteers
These vampires that drink their blood money
RW Dennen Jan 2015
Chaos everyday
Utilities down
Mission accomplished
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