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 Aug 2015 Sound Of Rain
Beleif
See their heights of architecture,
Manufactories and telescopes,
Venturing onwards to what they can see.

Encountering the wise men,
Mistakably ambitious.

Justifying their plan, they
Solute to their integrity.
Utilizing machinery,
Now they finally see.

Passed was the opportunity of their species.
Part three of "Arrival."
 Aug 2015 Sound Of Rain
ukown
Your deep it's over view
Like at the ocean, without you
My titanic skip your waves panic
I survive ,even crawling to your hill
I walk sleeping as schizophrenic !
I feel you, only during dream
I could speak ,like it's never been
Even if it's a dream
Shall i touch your face ?
Your eyes blinded mine
Your smile stole my brain
I run , i look around !
But i still in fear
I heard a few voice & a speech
Wake up ,wake up !
You have another night
To complete your dream !
A place inside
I placed a piece of me to hide
Fragile but protected
From the world outside

Deep within
Hidden from view
I had forgotten about this piece
Until I met you

This piece
Restless to get out
To be held and seen and known
After being hidden for so long
To finally not be alone

This piece
I finally release
 Aug 2015 Sound Of Rain
Inqhawq
PART I: ADRIFT

Madness passed Misery
and bumped into me.
We travel together now,
Islands lost at sea.

Ahead, Tomorrow rides,
pinned to the sunrise.
Yesterday dogs us,
marking our tides.

Empty atolls pass
on windborne paths.
Now homes to only bones;
more dead outcasts.

The Ocean never laments
or attempts to make sense.
We just wander across it
until living relents.

PART II: VAGRANT

Lagoon to lagoon,
harboring my tether.
Giving me shelter
from daily storms.

Lost in the masts,
a paper boat.
Taking on water...
as expected.

A lucky hook
snares the soggy craft.
Dried and opened:
a cry for          .

When no reply came,
a folded flotilla
Whitened the water,
a cry now screaming.

This harbor now empties.
My travels resume.

PART III: DREAM

The sea fades to gulls, and then,
a delta rushed with mountainfulls.
I've become a salmon fighting upstream,
an island lost in a riverbed dream.
Too bad I can't add pictures. Made some lovely maritime doodles when I wrote this back when.
THE CHICK in the egg picks at the shell, cracks open one oval world, and enters another oval world.

"Cheep ... cheep ... cheep" is the salutation of the newcomer, the emigrant, the casual at the gates of the new world.

"Cheep ... cheep" ... from oval to oval, sunset to sunset, star to star.

It is at the door of this house, this teeny weeny eggshell exit, it is here men say a riddle and jeer each other: who are you? where do you go from here?

(In the academies many books, at the circus many sacks of peanuts, at the club rooms many cigar butts.)

"Cheep ... cheep" ... from oval to oval, sunset to sunset, star to star.
one day i'll wed you
said the child to the girl much older than him.

echoes of her laughter rippled the winds
planting a rose on the child's cheek.

the child said knowing nothing about wedding
and nearly nothing about her
except

she filled him with a vague feeling
that made him wait to see her
when she was not around.

she was lost many decades ago
and the child moved far away
from that wedding vow.

the news came through the wind
she had died of cancer
somewhere far from homeland.

the child still dreams
her laughter rippling the winds
echoing by the lake

remembers his wedding vow
on that summer noon
still knowing nearly nothing about her.
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