~
Two ways to connect
May be caused by the New Way

But the end of the river
In estuaries
Lost in all
In the room of my old heart  

Both can go away from an angle
Or come from afar to meet both
Can make an angle

We are a form of both
Living in harmony,
In the deep Sea of Love
Frenzy to create the New

Let me come back
Again and Again
As in the new form
Of my old Soul

*@ Musfiq us shaleheen

Be-be-be-because, he starts,
stutters breaking words apart,
intoning what he’d overheard;
it’s painful listening, like darts

prying loose repeated words.
Naught’s amiss, we say, the birds
they laugh at us, ignored lampoons
and bullies’ taunts, how absurd.

He sits and watches his cartoon-
two mice who call a cat buffoon
I hate mieces to pieces!* shouts
Jinx the cat; it ends too soon.

Our son despises school, flat out.
We believe him, there’s no doubt,
But he’s a well-adjusted sprout
But he’s a well-adjusted sprout.

I attend classes in a black hole that was specified for some strange form of learning that promotes negativity and speaks of no past and no future but simply present yet devoid of meaning and spun together by the hour and minute hands of space that will tick and spin and tick and spin and tick and spin in limbo until the end of time and until the end of limbo so everything will cease to exist except the black nothingness and lack of a limbo to tick in thereof which actually isn’t black nothingness at all because if the nothingness exists then it by definition is not nothingness due to the fact that nothing is nothing but nothing is also something at the same time which is quite puzzling but when the outer shell of the idea is stripped away and the core meaning and thought process are taken into consideration then you’ll realize that the human race and all of it’s stupid little emotions run a fairly linear path in comparison to a situation such as this because we and all of our stupid little emotions are literally meaningless to the universe and we are nothing to it and yet we exist for unexplained reasons so we are what we truly fear the most and we are what eats the beauty of our galaxy and we are what drinks the blood of the angels and demons that tap dance in the back of the human mind and at the ends of every ***** finger that strokes church pews and the faces of other gods and dear gods and other gods we are your legacy that has burned itself to the illegitimate ground and like cuts upon your holy wrists and books we as your sons and daughters challenge you to climb down from the clouds and see what has been done to your lovely earth that has now been bathed in corruption and turned into chaos by the very idea of that which we find salvation in because honestly i bet it would feel a lot like looking in a mirror made of every prayer and every lie that you’ve ever ignored and yet these liars and these people still search their souls for meaning and devote their lives to your name bound in black ink and blood when deep down past every single ******* confession and every single plea for purity speaking to you is like speaking to a wall harboring pictures of your kingdom and paintings of your minions carrying out every last command from their textbooks and their fictions to bring forth a new day of peace and love while your sinners run the world and tear their houses away from yours so they can do what must be done with speeches and not your ever controlling will because you move your pawns as if they’re all presidents of something when they can’t even move two steps forward unless you cheat and you of all beings should at least try to start realizing that there’s no exceptions when you’re staring into a black hole filled with beautiful and stupid faces waiting for your next move to push us further into the singularity.

I love you,
more than the most delicious barbecue steak.

I remember to talk to you,
more than I remember to wash my pants.

You mean so much to me,
more than all the cars and computer games combined.

You always make me laugh,
more than any clown ever did.

You made me understand the word "beauty",
more than any sunset ever could.

When you're gone,
I reach corners of my mind I rather keep closed.

You warm my heart,
more than any cover ever could.

You are the sister I never had,
more than you'll ever know.

Thank you, Soad.

Writing.

The lust we share on cold midnights, lucid
and gentle but so passionate and rough
can keep me hypnotized. Translucent blue
eyes shine like moonstone, glinting bright with love
hidden from sight. I want to call you mine
but I know better than to pine over
a man up way too high, stuck on cloud nine
not planning to come down or to get sober.
I’ll let myself get lost a little while
in the forest of curls behind your ears.
I’ll wander your body concealing smiles
that give away feelings that interfere
with the promise to love myself before
someone else. I am who I’m living for.

a misguided symphony
forging its way
to the rest-
less form which writhes
and shifts
in cotton sheets
of yester-
day

The key to paradise:
What would be the benefit to you,
if not you yourself
are holding him in your hands?
But where, you ask yourself,
a thousand times,
can I find it?
Only in one place
you have not yet sought,
because it is closer than
your own breath
and any form.
If there you are searching for,
is your quest
truly a quest
and not just escape in disguise,
and every search has an end.


© Barbara-Paraprem, 2015