the polished hand of admirers heralding a new poem
they have come so often to rub their eyes on your ink-stained page
leaving behind papercuts of emotion with which they grieve
for the words you spread on their sweaty palms
the polished hand of admirers...
wet with anticipation of the latest beachside laughing clown
he is a walking breathing cataclysm written for her comforts
written in adoration's delight and true loves of her tender hand
she lay in amongst your pages on the bedspread
like a spilled wine **** to the tongue of sensibility
like a spilled wine that intoxicates and leaves
watch her swaying hips fade away into darkness
she will bounce and glide on another man's stripper pole
if you fail to call her back...
the polished hand of admirers heralding your waking thought
muted cheers as your pen makes wicked strokes on empty page
like a dancing blade carving your wooden words
till they sing like beauties breath on cold still air
till she is your warmth wrapped so delicately in your twisted bedsheets
she mutters a cough as she puts flame to cigarette
and smiles at your attentions
she is a living poem
that you write ink and page
the polished hand of admirers will never see
how pure simple ***** girl is so intoxicating
how lush and enticing her gyrating beneath you really is
the polished hand of admirers like you go to bed and sleep
while your dreams are of her dancing swift and sweet
theirs are the dreams of pens cutting on page
like a dancing blade carving wooden words

© 2016 mark john junor all rights reserved

كاس واحد و ألحان عربية
و خصري عم بميل يمين و شمال
و فستاني عم بيِعْلى عن فخذي
و شعري القصير عم بجرّب يطال كتافي
و إيدايي متل الموج بالصيف، بياخدوك و بجيبوك ع رواق
و ما شفتك غير واقف قدّامي
عيونك ضايعين ب خَصري
و بَسمتَك ضايعة بين فخاذي
و ما قدرت ما قرّب رَقْصك
و التَفِّت إيدي حول رَقبتَك
و تْمَلَّك جسمي جسمك
و الموسيقى الشرقية بلَّشِت تختفي
بس أنا خصري بقي يهزّ على خصرك
و فستاني بقي يِعْلَى عن فخاذي و عَلَّق بين فخاذنا
و شعري القصير خبّى وجوهنا
و إيدايي صارو متل العِرْبَيْشِة, لافّين حوالي عكّاز و ما ب فَلْتو


One drink, and oriental beats
And my hips are swaying to the right then to the left
And my dress is uncovering my thighs
And my short hair is trying to touch my shoulders
And my arms are like summer waves - they sway you softly
And all of a sudden I see you standing there
Your eyes lost in my hips
And your smile lost in between my thighs
And I couldn't not take your hand and dance with you
And my arms got locked around your neck
And my body owned your body
And the oriental beat started to degenerate
But my hips kept swaying on your hips
And my dress kept uncovering my thighs, getting stuck in between our thighs
And my short hair hid our faces
And my arms became like an espalier tree - wrapped around a pole and wouldn't let it go



لين اا -
- LynnAA