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  Jul 2014 The Master Quibbler
Issa
the bottle is

the
bottle
is

the bottle is empty

had its contents been precariously dealt with
or
drop by drop assimilated?

assimilated?by the cloths of
silk pashmina cashmere
or the blackness of a tuxedo

i might never
ever
know, my father forgets

to the left

to
the
left

to the left of the bottle
is another bottle
quite smaller.

it is filled with
pink liquid
half full--or half empty

barely used by its
current owner
it smells like apples

and by the bottles is

and
by
the
bottles
is

and by the bottles is a ring
with two keys
that open locks somewhere

of COURSE!

why, what else would you
use a key
for?

the darkest
alternative for a key's usage, though
is to

hurt
some
body
with
it

metal
grinding the
skin

and the bottles

and
the
bottles

and the bottles thrown
the former can shatter
the latter houses a liquid

but,

but,
but,
but,

why?
  Jul 2014 The Master Quibbler
Akemi
Her head disintegrates
Like the end of a cigarette
Falling into the wrinkles
And folds
Of my skin
11:35pm, May 25th 2014

Drunk exs are the worst.
  Jul 2014 The Master Quibbler
Rumi
Is it your face
that adorns the garden?

Is it your fragrance
that intoxicates this garden?

Is it your spirit
that has made this brook
a river of wine?



Hundreds have looked for you
and died searching
in this garden
where you hide behind the scenes.



But this pain is not for those
who come as lovers.

You are easy to find here.

You are in the breeze
and in this river of wine.
  Jul 2014 The Master Quibbler
Rumi
The moon has become a dancer
at this festival of love.
This dance of light,

This sacred blessing,
This divine love,
beckons us
to a world beyond
only lovers can see
with their eyes of fiery passion.

They are the chosen ones
who have surrendered.
Once they were particles of light
now they are the radiant sun.

They have left behind
the world of deceitful games.
They are the privileged lovers
who create a new world
with their eyes of fiery passion.
Tangled legs
   Under the sheets
My arm
   Our pillow
Your hair
   Flowing underneath your head
      Like golden streams leaving your scent
Your skin
   Soft as silk
Your face
   Still and peaceful
Your breath
   Slow and steady
      A prefect lullaby willing me to sleep
I drift away
Lost in your serenity
Never wanting to get up
Out here the hills bite back
They nip your toes at night
In this hollow place there is nothing between your dreams and the Milky Way
Except of course the moon
The moon makes you sleep walk
The cacti get you in your sleep
On your fingertips
When you reach for the promise of their mirage
     Trees you once climbed
     Bunk beds and secret forts
The foxes snap at your heels in the morning
It is time to wake up and get out of the sun
It is coming up now over those dust covered mountains yonder
You should not get caught in it
It does not forgive like father did

Have you ever heard a rock sing?
If you are still alive come sunset
Stay awake a little too long
You will
As an echo first
Then the distant memories of a lullaby mother sang
And when you close your eyes you will hear her full volume
Come hither on her siren tongue
Go thither woven into the soles of your boots
You may not wake up
These hills bite hard
You may not want to
She sings so
Politely
A collection of poems by me is available on Amazon
Where She Left Me - Michael DeVoe
http://goo.gl/5x3Tae
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