evening breath billows past my skirts
soft kisses on my ankles
behind whispering leaves
glass buttoned sleeves brush (clink)
against chain link fences
fast light cars
— bathe me in headlights | (not spotlights)
she thought who am i
there are so many of me
am i not veils and masks
even to myself
like a locked box
am i not peopled
with miscreant brooding hordes
of shadow selves
whispering gods and demons
taking space up within
like a coffin attic bedroom
to be rented out
for some wayward spectral family
oh children of the night
black quilled throwing porcupines
players of dismal warbled music
that sounds like nails scratching floor boards
in the cold dread dead of night
at Holiday Hells Inn
see me she thought
am i not
an icon of responsibility
sweet and good
engraving angels on silver
making all sacred in the marvelous calm
wouldn't hurt a fly
not me oh my
showered and smelling like
she the feminist
her favorite words
until her fingers sneak down her pants
feeling like a flowery beautiful woman
who weeps to be naked
raked over desires hot coals
and forced to worship
big cocked men
to be engorged voluptuously
like a stuffed butter ball turkey
until her eyes roll back
like white sticks shuttering
where gratitude is met
with bay rum and vodka tongues
a celebration of thanksgiving
and thanks is really given
with a star performance
lubricated for the baking oven
garnished with pineapple
tipping head over heels
at dizzying heights
hanging from a swinging chandelier
upside down girl
doing butter cunt splits
to be scraped off walls and ceilings
like whipping cream whipped
and subsumed in the perfect power and glory
Isn’t it time, that we stop crying,
for deliverance from circumstance’s
punishment, when we really should
be begging to be freed from our sin?
His Word teaches us that escaping
the results of ‘Sowing and Reaping’
is not feasible; our given ability
to reason, isn’t diminished when…
we have the Hope of Christ within.
Instead, we ought to be willing
to end production of needless pain
towards our God; anxiety and fears
prevents us from pushing forward in
victory, although we’re working and
striving towards… a worthwhile gain.
Is it that big of a crime
To expect so much outta mankind
or am I just overreachin'?
I keep talkin and talkin'
and cryin and talkin'
but they all just think I'm preachin'
'Cuz I speak from the heart
as I have from the start
still all they can hear is a crazy
I know I ain't perfect
but I know I deserve it
I deserve my happy livin'
Ion want no happy endin'
I'm far too good for that.
I've always wanted the best
Now I'm tryna do what's right
since I been put to the test
but everyone keep on leavin'
I can't innerstand why
and it make me wanna cry
but I ain't got no time for that
'Cuz I know where I been
but iono where I'm goin'
just know I ain't eva goin' back.
Cricket was started by the English,
They have a lot of spare money,
Too much more spare time,
But India has to work,
And cricket is the deterrent,
It restricts our national growth,
A trace of occupation by the English.
The pendulum swings and I, pivoting,
inhale the courage of my beating heart.
a child's first exposure to water:
18 months, curious and shivering,
he runs on brown wet sand
under the wide cloudy sky
to the blue gray lake up to his knees, lapping against his legs.
He feels the mud oozing between his toes.
Light glimmers on the waves,
and splashing, he tries to catch it.
Hands in the wind-tossed water, he grins.
When the wind roars and pushes him back,
his hair stands on end.
and turns and sees his mother,
blonde like him,
her hair wrapped up in a knot, windswept
dressed in white
her belly round and soft and full
like the moon--
there like she always is,
waiting and watching with care
even when he can't see her.
Like the tide coming in,
he goes to her.
Love and it's dream...
its an amazing night...
that which i got last night...
got you with me into my dreams..
danced together there as we imagined that..
kisses one the other as we really needed..
needed both a love..
that love which we felt...
yesterday, i dreamt of you...
saw myself near, so close to you...
hands by hands,,
eyes were into each others...
talking with no words about love and it's desires...
felt through their hearts...
and throbbed a beat's love in a same time...
as a poetic harmonic musical symphony...
never heard and felt before...
never felt before that warmness...
two hearts heated one the other..
gave a great poetic sense...
emotions that we were seeking for...
yes i dreamt of you last night..
its a real dream..
its a reality that we lived there..
there where we allowed this love to be..
to fly happily around us both...
above our hearts...
to give a love...
and to make it's great...
lets make it real as that real dream...
the dream that we shared...
lets dance on it's sweet melody...
lets drink each other's wine...
to make our love...
let's make it real ...
are you ready sweetheart ...
hazem al ...
when i was born to this earth,
to whom curious,
i dont come here for grief,
i dont march on pointless pride,
i am just human being non pay for the sins,
i carry this cross,
because i still have faith in you,
but when i was sick,
you weren't there
i am tired running away from myself,
pray for no salvation but your self,
i always am myself,
till the end and always be,
i carry this burden for you
but i get nothing back,
to hell and paradise back again,
all those drugs,
and i don't starve till i'm done.