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Shofi Ahmed Aug 2022
When the paintbrush of the day
is tucked away
and the sunset dipped
in the forest of the night
the moon wanes and waxes
down the hills of stars  
atop that shady wrap.

Who peeps in
where the sleeping beauty wakes
is any one guess
nor it's a amateur's business.

Far from the half lit astral canopy
any bucket lowered  
deep down on the ground
into a barrowed well of colours
comes up with a Joseph of Cannon
the firesome story goes on.
The same fire burner
is also the same fire extinguisher
Alexander the Great intrigued life water
cool serene cup of Ab-e Hayat elixir!
apayne Sep 2020
I'm sending you an indigofera tinctora
plant it, water it, grow it
when it blooms
pluck a petal and hold it to your eye
look at me
through its vulnerable corolla
for when you need to see beyond the tangible
the little girl you created
Aubrey -
A not so ordinary girl or name
But who's to blame?

I'm sending you a stained glass dreamcatcher
careful it doesn't break
hang it over your bed
when you wake, hold it to your eyes
look at me
for when you need to see my truth
Joseph's coat of many colors
Aubrey -
A not so ordinary girl or name
But who's to blame?

I'm sending you the promise of a flood-free future
take a step closer
study it
place the promise between us
for when you seed to my truth
hate-proof, judge-proof, water-proof
Aubrey -
A not so ordinary girl or name
But who's to blame?
"Aubrey - a not so ordinary girl or name but who's to blame" pulled from song "Aubrey"   written and composed by David Gates; originally recorded by Bread.
Vladimir Lionter May 2020
I’m not a son or a grandson. I’ll say
Politely: I have not memories’ ton!
Only my soul is sad night and day
That our beloved poet is gone!

In New York he left at the dawn of years—
In January it was snowing hard.
I read his books of poetry and prose
From cover to cover for the mind.

I know even his number of phone
And his home address for writing.
But I’m afraid very much of bad form,
There’ll be no one letters reading.

His memory’ll be memorized, I believe,
So that the text in bronze runs
On home: “Never be sad, people, time treats grief,
Joseph Brodsky lived here, this memorize!”


Я не сын, не внук. Скажу учтиво:
У меня воспоминаний нет!
Только где-то на душе тоскливо,
Что ушёл любимый наш поэт!
На рассвете лет ушёл в Нью-Йорке -
Снег тогда январский сильно мёл.
Книги все его от корки к корке
Я стихов и прозы перечёл.
Знаю даже номер телефона,
Адрес дома – чтобы написать.
Но боюсь я очень моветона –
Будет письма некому читать.
Память – верю я – увековечат.
В бронзе текст на доме чтоб гласил:
«Не грустите, люди! Время лечит!
Здесь Иосиф Бродский раньше жил!»

Translator - I. Toporov
Ceyhun Mahi Aug 2019
Ripped shirt,
but I am still
running with all my might
through this house who's doors are all locked,
to Light.
A reference to the story of the Prophet Yusuf/Joseph.
Steve Page Dec 2018
I tell ya.
are not as much of a flight risk
as you first may think.
The cherubim however
are flighty
and way more likely to fly off
at the baby's first cry
Like they've got somewhere else to be.
Just try. You'll see.
Not even a bye-bye.

But angels, oh man.
Angels -
I'm a fan.

You can set your Sat Nav
on an Angel.
Dreamtime or lunchtime,
they'll be your guide.
- Sublime.

Me and Mary
were fans.

- Jesus!
Put those nails down.
If your mum catches you with those, she'll go spare.
Joseph got used to Angel visitations.
It was
the green
grass there
between dipoles
holes when
bare organic
meat the
harvest begun
their true
rein again
with a
notorious cut
of beef
ribeyes but
ranches nearby
her Swanee
River oak
a ****** in sequence
Maria Etre Aug 2018
There i(s)
a certa(i)n
place for you
in my heart
bro(t)herly lov(e)
that you keep
"If I Could Give You My Eyes" Series
Farzaneh Qaf Jul 2018
I'm not Joseph
no "no" to temptations
thy greatness, O' He
grant me a vision
to interpret
day dreams
may I know
how to sacrifice
for her kisses
on my forehead,
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