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Badshah Khan Mar 13
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) - 72

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

Like a bamboo flute his dear life'
Noble birth of woodwind family.

Which naturally generates;
An acoustics stream of sacred music!

Allah Khair..... Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab - Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
Brandon Amberger Sep 2018
You know you're like the sun.
Radiating beauty naturally
and everlasting.
fast as a blitzen comet,
     this dashing prancer
     contra dancer
     (i.e. Rudolph nary hoof) didst zip

with cupid ditty toward his ***** wife,
     who loosed a suppressed yip
asper one discovering remains of the day
     from the donner

     (newt the majority) party whip
ping her olive drab camouflage attire,
     as if she hapt to be a vip
endlessly congratulating herself

     (and bow wowing her ego) bing awarded
     the housekeeping seal of approval,
     and expected me to tip
her gore gee us Martha Stewart déclassé

     snoop doggy dog rendition
     as she did slip
agilely (with broom and dustpan in hand) rip
peat head lee uttering

     an apropos Mary Poppins quip
booting muck can clear across to Compton
     (wherever that might be) pip
pin like a cat on a hot tin roof,
     where no cure existed to nip

in the bud at this stage,
     and rid thine beloved Narberth bride,
who caught a bout clean destine
     feverish frenzy to make house beautiful,

     oblivious to beseeching despair,
     sans this husband who cried
plaintively imploring divine intervention,
     lest extreme heroic measures

     need be taken, thus guide
me asap before her blistered hands
     rubbed red as tender (vittles) raw hide,
     which could find her catatonic, doggone

     ill eagle lee flying a boot
     like a bat out of hell, and stupefied
hence, this urgent message typed out in a huff
     for less severe invasive

     experimental treatment truly tried
on this, that, or some other missus so and so
     .....please pardon this abrupt end,
     plus initial idea wide

lee differing from my initial intent won
during how to write an elegy to mister son
describing, how aye felt enervated with run
hills of beaming solar rays, oh how none

synthetic drug to bathe,
     enhance, suffuse away mon
day moody blues,
     and now...gotta tend tummy ***!
Druzzayne Rika May 2017
Simplicity
is difficult to construct
It comes naturally
or doesn't .
Maria Etre Mar 2017
I fought my inhibitions
but nature pulled through

Breaking barriers of what if's
unclothing all those hidden thoughts

Naked and free, I bashfully
bathed in my liberty
succumbing to all things "now"

For I have found beauty
in the "momentary"
and the naturally
inevitable
Tommy W Nov 2016
Blood Red *******
By, Tommy W.

Man is there
In the night
Sitting and waiting to fight

No good thoughts
Or good times
Just making a plan for the next big crime

Dark and evil
Not very nice
They act as if you’re head lice

You have been found
You hear a bullet **** by
Prepare to die

For your friends and for your family
Now they have come for you
Just because you’re a Jew

The world is unfair
These men are full of disdain
You’ve seen them beat children with a cane

So many taken
Full of hatred and sorrow
You know there will be no tomorrow

The men are closing in
You close your eyes
And think about their network of spies

Why haven’t they been stopped?
Is the world that uncaring?
I see their eyes staring

Their ignorance is killing us
As they watch their television
Full of indecision

By the time help arrived
It was too late
All of us Jews had met our fate

Countries watched from afar
With fear of standing out
Consumed with self doubt

Once they realized what they had done
They could wait no more
The allied powers went to war

Millions killed
The second world war
Blood and gore

The world remembers
The pain and death
Of how many will not take another breath

Yet history repeats itself
More wars are fought
Bodies in the fields rot

Are we naturally good?

(Short pause)

I guess not.
For those of you that are going to tell me there was no television during that time period, it depends on the year of the war you're looking at. Televisions were created in the 40s apparently if I remember correctly. Also, I wasn't aware of this when I made the poem.

When I started writing this poem I originally planned a short maybe funny poem about something. It's interesting to see how poems can swing off to something you never expected. I really like how it turned out and I will be reading it to my group in my Creative Writing class.

Let me know what you guys think!
For those of you who haven't read my poems lately, yes they do revolve around death it seems. I'm not sure why that is.
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