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Zero Nine Jul 2017
Every word you've
ever heard
is a lie,
***
to
find
out

Didn't you know
there is no
eye to eye?
with
you,
your
self

Some dark part of you confidently starts those fires.

Desire and I go way back, close, I've groped their inky caves.
Resist desire's lurid scope, so sure, precisely how you're made.

Some dark part of you longs to *****, to crawl your ******* veins.
hazem al jaber Jul 2017
Smell my fires ...

do you smell me ...

wish to be there with you ...
there right now ...
to lick you all ..
every inch of your body ...
yes i wish too so much ...
even i'm dying to ...
to make and do ...
**** things for you ...
my body is like fire ...
my mouth is so thirsty ...
would love to drink you ...
drink your honey ...
from all of you ...

would you love to share ...
i'm ready for you ...

sweetheart ...
can you feel ...
how i am now ...
how much i desire you ...
how much i long for you ...
do you feel ...

the rod got hard ...
hard more than you feel ...
if you are ready ...
come let's make a magic love ...
love till we melts together ...
till we get what we both need ...
are you ready ...
do you wish to be ...
to sit my fires down ...
and give me the pleasure ...
that we both really need ...

if you feel ...
and you smell me ...
so,...
what are you waiting for ...
come and take off all my fires ...
waiting you sweetheart ...

hazem al ...
july hearne Jun 2017
west london fire stories
burning up the day,
london fires burning down and out
before they burn away

daily all day robes
and a story i can't finish
i won't make it out, there's too much
i don't want to say

so late in the day
wasting life away
unheard singing
should probably count for something
maybe today, maybe today, maybe today
so late in the day

instant coffee,
INFP, unfinished story
cheap chinese burning debris
blazing away on the bbc
so late in the day, so late in the day, so late in the day
& the day becomes another day

must be so nice to be you
always voting for justin trudeau
all your better things to do,
all the better looking women you were born to pursue

london fires burn down and out
before they burn away
& the day becomes another day
maybe today, maybe today, maybe today
the cheap chinese cladding was rain proof,
even as it fell from as far up as the 24th floor

If only the cladding hadn’t been so flammable
or if the alarms would have worked
or if they hadn’t been told to stay put and die

then some other people donated their old clothes
that they didn’t want anymore
a lot of old used clothes that people had been meaning to get rid of
were donated

i read somewhere that it was supposedly environmentally friendly
eco-friendly, but toxic and flammable

but the fire was renewable energy
or unrenewable energy
depending on how you look at it

either way, the eco-friendly plastic cladding was rainproof.














& all the reasons i hate you
are sadly the reasons i still think thoughts of you
now these thoughts have turned into
thoughts of you
still too cool for Sixto Rodriguez
still editing "The Elements of Style"
still thinking thoughts of me
so past my prime
so past the time
of our short while
Colm Apr 2017
Maybe this summer?
Maybe these stars?
Will be the distant midnight fires
Which will look down upon this tired old heart
And rejoice as it falls
Endlessly
Stumbling upon the greatest love of all
Maybe this summer? Maybe these stars?
Zero Nine Apr 2017
It started raining on the day you left. It's not stopped raining one day since. I like it, though. You know I love bad weather, and now I drown in it. You know I love you. Certain things won't and will never work. Now, with your name in lights, my life is even less lit. Can you even seen me in the furthest dark from your star? My bed may as well be chrome, my head a mini-ATX, I'm on autopilot. Toward destruction, I run open armed and face first. The wind and drag remind me of our excitement, of living with the fires lit. I'll die in it, and take all our artificial memories with me.
......
hazem al jaber Feb 2017
Fires' longings ...






beloved and sweetheart ...

tonight ...

and every night ...

day by day ...

and every day ...

i will create a unique love ...

create into your love ...

only for your love ...

and will be the unique lover ...

unique one ...

only for you ...

i will make a miracles ...

no one ever knows before ...

even no one heard about this love ...

will amaze all humans' eyes ...

will draw you into the heart of sky ...

as i did into my heart ...

will draw your picture there ...

to watch you day by night ...

will draw you ...

to enjoy watching you ...

enjoy this admirable face ...

that face which lives into my eyes ...


dear sweetheart ...

need you ...

so hug me ...

need your love ...

so love me more please ...

sweetheart ...

my heart dying for you ...

my soul lost it breathes because of distance ز..

this distance which apart between us ...

so please ...

come and give me back my breathes ...

through your soul ...

your soul which it the soul of my soul ...

sweetheart ...

here i am drawing you ...

while a fires' longings eats me ...

taking me from world to another world ...

searching about you ...

to find you and to stay forever with you ...


come and safe me ...

from those fires which eating me now ...

here i am waiting you ...

waiting you, because i love you ...

yes i do ...


by : hazem al jaber ...
dSteine Feb 2017
to discover that strain of silence
i avoid as if plague born and sworn
claim to take shape and root
like the pathways of my veins,
drinking from my mortal heart  
so now i gaze as if with eyes born  
with the light of unnamed stars,
wind trace forgotten sigils on my skin,
fingers touch and trace as if laced
with the kiss and embrace of desire.  

i would be grateful, and speak,  
as only love between pen and paper
fresh and wet with ink or with blood,
the name of the altar for this naked fire  

but there has only been silence
now i claim for my own, and all  
this silence seek is only silence,  
born to spawn to feed and breathe  
an infinity of itself and in between.
dSteine Feb 2017
you could have chosen
exile or as a lone passenger
in the transport of time
across vast waters to an isle
uncharted in any map;
kept as a secret, like the poetry
you wrote and i read without
knowing it kissed and caressed
more than just my name and face.  

naked as we were even before  
the dark where we peeled  
from each other’s skin and touch
the cold and dust of yesterdays,
it must have been terrifying to dare
against a fate lonely and beautiful,
still, with an elemental force that raced
to bind wind and sky from north to south
you declared that i, a prisoner of wonder
to how it must be to be loved by you
be set free.  

for this reason, and perhaps only this  

my eyes will always seek and trap the light
for the harvest offered when to you again i gaze,
a pilgrim to the province of memory
where everything that persists: streets,
gardens, houses under the stars
breathes and whispers of you and only you,
as lips will move while my tongue trace  
each syllable of your known and secret name
until for last breathe this mortal heart.
dSteine Feb 2017
it began with the fingers of day  

parting the dark and cold to reveal
fresh and green succulent cruelties  
arousing one’s appetite the desire:  

to be a blind witness
in how your absence  
bleach color and bleed form.
  

to be deaf to wind fall fail  
find their morning melodies
for without your voice  
there can be no song.
  

a brand new day in the season of waiting  
until you would arrive in sight or hearing.  

but now i no longer count the ways
i gather the body of each day  
to join the corpses of yesterday:  

there is only this, and every night,
among promises written with salt or in sand,
a cancer without end, or cure
eating me up while i endure.
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