A caliph trembles at the sound of aircraft
like a dachshund beaten too much while
his pack snap and bite and **** their legs
to *** on a better world

Their state is a chewed thighbone
covered in flies yet they mint coins
in gold and silver and praise God as they
throw effeminate teenagers off rooftops

A Turkish fisherman with a large shoe
stuffs cash into a pregnant pocket
and crams frightened souls into the shoe
which sinks on the horizon like the sun

Assassins have the crescent moon
in their left hands ***** pictures
on their phones and tight vests
leaking lava

She searched for tips on eyeliner
the day she erupted as a volcano
leaving her sheer blouse to mourn
at home on the ironing board

The world has become as mad
as Napoleon in stiletto heels
cross-legged on the back
of a tortoise singing Hey Jude

i am a passenger
free to roam on the east sides
of redundancy and table manners

flower markets thrive on dawn skies
arranged as tourist spots
the baker's fair selling eggshells
cracked on cobblestone soup
meatpies sold out too soon
appleseeds scattered for birds

i sweep them all up
and see patterns grow on my skin

let it not be said i did not try, i did not do
for too soon the the heat covers the shade as well
and not even the acacia can go without thirst

fill my cup with honeydew milk
and add bittergourd and salt

i can let philistine warriors come from the backroads
and enter the frontlines
if only to join you

Voices rang in her head as if trying to communicate that something had been lacking for such a substantial time that she no longer saw it as lacking but as the normality that it served in her life.
She became accustomed to the constant lacking of sustainability that it served as nothing but a blanket of sheer comfort to her being.
Uncertainty was the one certain correlation between holding on and feeling fulfillment because it was the only common trait anyone had ever presented at the doorstep of truth she held so dearly to her heart.
She became fixed on it - searching for the ability to communicate emotion and more so the constant question of whether or not her invested time had been to them what it was to her ever longing, love struck, wanderlust soul.
Was she a fool or was she holding onto the parts of those around her that even they failed to recognize exist?
Foolish or foreseeing?
She had yet to decipher the difference and had but the slightest clue as to if she ever would, and that served as comfort to her misguided heart.

To the beholder such beauty is heavenly.
A godly product of nature,
as enchanting and majestic as
the flowers or a morning frost.
To the beheld in such worship is frippery.
A biased vision of allure,
as manipulated and contorted as
a dream or a narrative device.

I wonder what the point is
And who is getting off...
Truth be told
Credit to you, I owe
To lead me down this painful road
With daggers bearing your initials
Perhaps one day I'll realize
That you are not a worthy prize

Tan honey skin, I let you in. Deeper than I should. I thought I could. But a familiar embrace, retracted and retraced all the memories in my head. So I want to hold you close and dear. But lonesome I will be. Because if it's familiar, doesn't mean the same.

I stumbled through your life with an ungraceful lack of restraint.

I tried to find an answer in a life I barely knew.

If I'd known what I do now, I wouldn't have felt for you.

Tomorrow we'll grow further apart then we were before.

The tide, the moon, the sun, the stars, time turns closed the door.

Before the lock bolts shut I'd hope to make amends.

And save my mind from whats inside in time to see the end.