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When Pharaoh
checked out at the Red Sea,
odd circumstance made a grab for his vacant scepter,

and kingdom collided
with plague to paint a mural
on the palace wall (or maybe, it was the hotel lobby),

of a dreamer's garden,
his wife in veils, her dance a cordial
invitation to a great many unmentionable things,

the feral sky had blown
itself out, and in muted candle
nightshade, the mistress of war disembarked,

and so somewhere
in those upper rooms, ruler
and consort, hearing the sound of running water,

mystified their carnal
senses by infusing themselves
with a little vigorous morphine of the soul

I'm ancient
my life
packed neat
in boxes
in the attic
by my wife
just waiting
for last breath
and my burial
in our plot.
Send the lot
to Goodwill
to be forgot.
Life is nothing
But a fake dream.
Everything is fake
The day you wake up
You find nothing to take.
Every day is a new fear
A can of beer
Might wipe your tear.
A bottle of whiskey
Makes your dreams less risky.
Every day we hide our pains
Between the winds and the rains
Life is a deep sigh
at the end
They will tell you
Huh! My life is the worst lie.
As my dreams were soft
No one of them
Could be understood even by a cockroft.
Life is fake
For God's sake
Stop telling me
Tomorrow you will be.
Annoying thoughts can color dreams,
which proselytize their wanton schemes;
Intriguing worlds come into play,
while clouds of perception waste away.

The doldrums of this mournful scene,
can shatter hopes of a life serene;
A struggle lasts beyond the days,
in melancholy moments here to stay.

How do the clouds relieve our pain,
in subtle spaces which shall remain ?
Among the woolly white of fluff,
destructive signals call our bluff.

How soon the notions that perceive,
a chance to grow, a chance to grieve;
For when the night calls to the clouds,
it wraps the daylight in its shroud.
You came to the never ending
waters of sea
Searching the core, something ,
a mystery
Only to be welcomed to what was meant to be
New world of colors and bliss
First time breath freely in ocean depths.
Sea lover

A metaphor . In life listen to your heart. Do what you always wanted to do.
  Jul 20 Naceur Ben Mesbah
To finish your own life by hand,
May seem like the right thing to do.
But to free yourself from this land,
Is to imprison those that love you.
The streets are lined with coal-dust,
the trees stand still and bare;
I wonder if the earth will turn,
it seems no one would care.

Alarming all the citizens,
the trash sits on the curbs;
And people scowl at one another,
whether in the Cities or the 'Burbs.

Is it really worth the struggle,
living days and nights like this ?
Why didn't we listen to experts,
who warned us of the abyss ?

Global warming has taken over,
the sun grows hotter every day;
We swelter in the moonlight,
as the whole world goes astray.

We've yet to learn to make a change,
in how we treat our blessed home;
Overturning the madness before us,
remember--we're not at all alone.

Fervently, we pray for guidance,
from an eternal source of grace;
And if the words are strong enough,
there's a chance we'll rescue this place.
In New Jersey, it's been 100 degrees or more for over a week, and will go on for the next few days. Climate change is upon us, and we should work to stop it while we still can ! FEM
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