Unsa’y ikatambal sa kasing-kasing nga nasamdam?
Unsa’y pwede ikapugong anin’g mga luha nga wa’y undang sa pag-agas?
Unsa’y akong buhatun para mawala nin’g nipilit nga kasakit
Sa akon’g dughan nga sa imu ra gihapon nipitik?

Ana sila mawala ra daw ni
Ana ka “this is for the better”
Ana ko, “asa ang better?”, “kanus-a pa?”
Kung sa paglabay sa mga adlaw, sakit gihapon
Sama atun’g adlawa nga ako nabiya-an.

Unsa’y akon’g buhatun anin’g dughan ikaw gihapon
Ginapangita, ginadamgu, ginahuna-huna?
Ako nagpabilin sa tunga-tunga
Sa pagsangpit nga ako balikan nimu
Ug sa pagbiya, paglubong anin’g paghigugma
Nga wala na lingi-a.

Ug samtang karun nga bisa’g gamay lan’g nga pagtakdol
Sa kasing-kasing ug sa mga kagahapon’g panumduman
Wala’y lain kan’g madunggan kundili
Hagulhol nga daw namatyan
Ug sa padayun nga pagpatay anin’g ala-ut nga gugma.

Ako padayun nga mamasin
Nga pag-abut ugma damlag
Mahuman ang kasakit
Magsugod ang bag-un’g
Kalinaw, kalipay, malipay
Akon’g kasing-kasing unta magmaya na sab.

Apan karun nagpabilin kon’g mangutana,
Unsa’y ikatambal sa kasing-kasing nga nasamdam?
Unsa’y akong buhatun para mawala nin’g nipilit nga kasakit
Sa akon’g dughan nga sa imu ra gihapon nipitik?

If nostalgia beset your mind
Come to Ethiopia
A cradle of mankind!

Come to Ethiopia
With no hesitation
Ancient civilization
Will engross your attention!

Before identity quest
You smother
Come to Ethiopia 'cause
Lucy, your  great,
Great grandmother
You could watch closer!
A melting *** of
Over 80 ethnic groups,who
With cordial hospitality,
Will embrace you
Without standing to ceremony
Or formality.

Come to Ethiopia
A mosaic of culture
A true place for adventure!

If you need
An original taste of
Coffee Arabica
Come to Ethiopia
A beacon light to Africa
To freedom fighters
Up to America.

Come to Ethiopia
You will meet there
People who have to borrow
Valour from no where!


Come to Ethiopia
Triggering off no
Feelings of discomfort
Mosques churches abut.

Come to Ethiopia
In a way description that defy
A church by a Muslim name goes by!

Come to Ethiopia
An exemplary country
To deter common enemy
To spur development
In a spectacular bent
Muslims and Christians unite!

Come to Ethiopia
Whose name on the bible
Times beyond number bubble!


Come to Ethiopia
For his persecuted
Followers, the Prophet
Mohammed a high-heaven marked!

Come to Ethiopia
Now on the path of renaissance
Mutual regional growth and
A sustainable  peace
Are whose unwavering stance!

Come to Ethiopia
A country with its own
Alphabet and calendar!
Of course you will wonder
when you get
Yourself eight years younger!

Come to Ethiopia
To feast your eyes
On breathtaking water falls
Scenery and greenery
God-hand-made caves
Endemic animals and birds
Live volcanoes
Obelisks and
Rock-hewn churches.
You shall feast
Your eyes on Harar wall
For the Muslim
A holy city on row four!
You will stand a chance
For Ivangadi
A traditional spectacular dance
Also Konso's terrace.

Come to Ethiopia
Aside from adventure,
You could collect
Invincible athletes
And successful Olympians'
Signature!
Your souvenir picture
With them you may capture!
Of course
You can board 'Ethiopian'
That was there when
The horizon of aviation
History we scan.

Come to Ethiopia
The celebration of
The finding of the true cross
The pilgrimage
To Sheik Hussein Mosque
And epiphany
That have no parallels by any!

Come to Ethiopia
To see first-hand
A country
13 months sunny!

Come to Ethiopia
To enjoy
A Teff-made
Flat bread organic
Found not carcinogenic!
You will gather
Like coffee
Teff and its bread chemistry
Age-old, with it, that were there,
Are blessings
To the rest of the world
Ethiopia Proffer!

Come to Ethiopia
If you want to understand
As to what is meant
By black pride!

If you worry about class
Ethiopia today
Has countless
Hotels shining with stars!

By Alem Hailu G/Kristo

what a ****-pile of ******* (petition rendered
on the hyphenated word compound
i wanted to correct- yeah, all the dudes can hide,
i tried the Oxford crew, but instead
i just got American  colonialism:
the part where you say: i said the funnier joke,
therefore i'm funnier,
TEAM U.S.A.! yeah! **** yeah! let's keep it as
just that... TEAM U.S.A. GO!
we're aiming for sushi right now...
and i love the fact that Green Day's
when September ends is a sidelining the 9/11,
ever you mind dialling 911...
oh, because i was the fascist, tell that to your mother
when baking bagels, ****...
i don't like the way poetry
tries to incubate violence as the non-existence of,
i hate that poetry is written by *******...
i ******* hate these goody-two-shoes more
than i'd care to think abut ******,
who will, given enough time,
become a fetish subject for historians when
we reach a historical threshold,
give it 1000 years he's be a mythological Barbarossa...
that's what i said about him not being
a unicorn.... give it 1000 years and he'll end up
being a hero, just before the
historians make a fetish out of them like they did
with Genghis Khan...
they'll talk about the autobahn before they
speak of the holocaust and constructing Israel,
which we are assured, by fake-socialists
taking on communism by sitting on a train floor...
if that guy Corbyn is a socialist then i'm Comrade
Mao... you never experienced socialism,
i hardly think you're able, like you
said that former feudal made communist
factions were predestined failures of capitalism...
i know you'll fail being communists,
the Chinese are in charge...
you, aren't, going, anywhere!
yeah, believe the socialist sitting on the train floor...
that ******* comes last...
and don't try that fascist tactic for me ti speak clean...
i'm not going to speak with the everyday citizens' speech
talking to the queen... no, i flap the tongue
you provide the wind and the winding,
schooling in over, so is shooing into lining up...
page 64 of Valis:
either knowledge through the sense organs and
is noun-categorised (some say called)
empirical knowledge, or it's arises within your head
and it's called a priori -
i don't see a problem? do you? well...
isn't a posteriori dismissive of empiricism?
to reach a posteriori knowledge you have to dismiss
empirical involvement... also to mind:
there are aren't any sense organs as such.... i'd like
to thin there are... but deaf people wouldn't consider
their ears to be organs, they're still using sign language
and continue living, neither are eyes organs
given Braille... Philip K. **** had more insight on Kant
high on amphetamines than Hegel ever did...
the basic implant? God... a few people
have escaped the a priori and a posteriori argument
for God, most were seduced by atheism
trying to relieve themselves of the argument being
argued let alone argued for a non-existence of such being,
arguing alone proved the argument to be fallacy riddled,
i.e. / as in: it was argued in the first place... for no reason...
i mean we're talking mutation:
how to mutate a priori hexagonal
               through the empirical medium pentagonal
into a posteriori hex once more...
                   the problem is searching for God in
the medium, the Cartesian substance,
the trial and error coin-flip, empiricism isn't about that,
empiricism is about the necessity of error,
i'm bothered about whether God was implanted
in us as necessarily, or whether he emerged to our
a priori mind from the medium of empiricism -
i call that a Darwinian fallacy, i don't think
the human brain can consolidate a harmonious
coexistence with self-belief and being a Buddhist...
the foremost concern is not whether:
god created man, or whether man created god...
we're talking whether the two ever coincided with
needing proof...
                               obviously not.
that part about being a Buddhist? that's shrapnel...
most of us have so much self-belief that we become
eager labourers, and hardly complain,
because the billionaires have ferrets for a haircut.
but as i said, the easiest, aphorism type of reading
Kant doesn't come from Nietzsche, it actually
comes from Philip K. **** in the bookValis...
empiricism was always going to be a watery product,
rigging scientific results, i mean lying about the results
would end up diluting a bottle of whiskey so it looked
like beer and tasted like a 20% voltage on the tongue
pallet: hardly numbing.
so the three tiers: one before, one intermediately,
and one after...
                           how a hexagon passes
through a pentagon and remains a hexagon...
or how a hexagon passes through a pentagon and ends
up a pentagon....
or how a pentagon passes through a pentagon
and ends up a hexagon...
                                             or more simply?
Bleep Beers... or Bibi (when you say b b and then add the
ee, umlaut arithmetic to double up on) -
no, i don't place my belief in the existence of god
from an a priori suggestion, as if i was to invent it...
to later discredit such a belief with a well argued augmentation
from the inheritance to later dispose of such an argument
in the charity shop of the a posteori stance...
that wouldn't excuse or explain the religious inheritance
of the Kippah or the Hijab...
who would be dumb enough to originate having to wear
a Hijab from not having experienced some sort
of necessity of divination? they would have had too experienced
something outer-worldly... god is too ridiculous to
be an a priori or an a posteriori concept...
but he's just ridiculously worthwhile the unifying
concept of phenomenology in that grand empirical theatre...
which means only one thing... our caving in and mining
god in the realm of the a priori is yet another
reality check -
                         summary:
i'm still bothered why not affiliating the hyphen to that
letter will make not meaningful reference, i.e.:
a-        (without)
                                   which means, a priori
(without a prior / without a beginning)
                       which means, a posteriori
           (without an after, without an end) -
it doesn't mean whether you have god as an implant,
whether you get rid of the implant
after experiencing the empirical medium,
you'll nonetheless experience the medium of the pentagon,
establish that sense-organs are not really organs,
because classifying something as an organic makes
life essentially a continuum, but blind men live long
after the eyes are gone...
                    i'm just saying that god as an idea
is hardly a worthy unit, which ideas are, concentrated
thoughts that cannot align themselves to either
telepathy or narration... they're immovable...
unshaken, undisturbed...
i'm just saying we're too intelligent to seek god
in the a priori realm or the a posteriori realm of things...
we were not actually ever going to find him
on the shores of Ireland or Florida...
it's not that ridiculous to find him on the Atlantic...
he's quantum physics after all, pocket presence...
isolated proof... never a collectivisation to enable
politicised coherence... it's a quantum experience,
a quantum experience that without atoms
gets so much stigmatisation as Judaism proves;
the mock-joke of Moses rummaging realities rather than
reality in the desert to the count of 40 years...
yeah... and later the idea of the multiverse...
that's not funny mate... it's horrid...
but there you are safe in democracy... but you're
used to reading the media outlets citing child abuse...
well... what are we missing? APPLAUSE! APPLAUSE!
ENCORE!

My mother used to tell me that only I
could make myself happy; it all starts there.
But she's never tasted the bittersweet smoke
your lips pour into my lungs.
She said "baby girl, you can't build your life
around just one person."
But never said a word abut finding home in your bed.
My father warned me about guys like you...
The ones who remind me of him.
But he's never seen your eyes glow
in moonlight like fire.
He told me I love too easily,
that my trust is slow to build.
But where was he the night you broke
your way through my defenses?
I tried to be the girl they'd be proud of,
except only you ******* undone.
And I can't remember what worry
looks like on my mother's face anymore.
And I haven't caught a whiff of my
father's cologne in years.
So maybe they don't have me all figured out,
yet maybe neither do you.

I have made my transition to another place, a place where beauty needs no explination.
God’s great timing is everything;
it may not be what we expect but God is always in control.
Sands will flow through the hourglass, slow and steady, throughout our lives.

Time will end and the sand will stop flowing, but God’s love for us is forever growing.
I have worked all my life for this to happen, to see my Lord face to face.

I’ve been accepted in this majestic place, where pain no longer has a hold on me.
My eyes have adjusted t my new reality, I can see bright skies and butterflies.
Don’t worry about not seeing my face, don’t worry abut not feeling my embrace.

Hold our memories inside your heart, and know that our live will never depart.
Cry for me, just for a while, but not too long, ‘cause I’m don’t just fine.
My bags are unpacked and I am settling in, taking my place next to the Master.

He said that he’d never leave nor forsake me, He kept his promise, I am with him now.
He has taken my hand and opened up the doors; to a Paradise of beauty and love divine.
I know you’ll miss me, I’ll miss you too!
Just know dear hearts, we will be together again someday.
Live your life to the fullest, and remember our love
each and every day.
Just remember your hourglass is still flowing strong.
Do what you can so you can see, my hourglass is full again, this time my sand will never end!

some listen to pop
and like lady gaga
some listen to rap
and like tupac
abut me, i'm different

i listen to what is considered,
"emo music," or "goth music,"

so what does it matter,
if i listen to black veil brides,
or even of mice and men

music is music,
and that music saved my life

i wish you were ugly

if every single time i thought of u and saw a beast

would you really mean the same to me?



if i saw you for what you truly are on the inside

would i still have let u pry

through my skin and shred my heart

and let the thoughts of u

ridethrough my vains

almost as if you were truly in me



how could u posses me with something so invisible only air could see it

why couldn't i see it

its strange how we know the things that can hurt us

but when there right in front of our eyes we become blind

and even though at that moment our ears become the strongest

we still cant believe it



see now its one thing to love

and its something completely different when u try to be it

maybe it wasn't you

maybe i loved you so hard i hurt myself

well guess thats only cuz i was working on that project

and u chose not to help



i wish u were ugly

then maybe the moments i held the closest to me

wouldn't have been

those tears i shed

and u put me in your arms and promised me things ive never heard before

is that why the sounded so lovely?



or how bout when u started calling me jelly bean?

you know the nick name that my mom used to call me?

AND YOU KNEW HOW MUCH SHE MENT TO ME!!!!!



or how bout when u were going through it

and i stayed there by your side just because it made me feel better

but u pushed me away

didn't appreciate me

i should of known better



or the times when we laughed and joked

about who got who in trouble this time

and i should of known u were trouble the last time



or the wlks in the park that we shared

just talking abut the things most precious in life

the whole days ...weekends....OR HOW BOUT YEARS

we spent together?



or maybe your lips

i never liked to kiss

but kissing you each time made me feel like a princess

and no matter how hard i tried

i couldn't get a crown from you

u told my u loved me

i didn't see it as a  hard thing to do



but i do give you this you were always there when the lights shut off

maybe if i was a cat i could of seen u were ugly

but instead i choose 2 feel

who knew all the passion and pleasure turn into

pain and tears

and fears

that ill ever see u again



maybe if you were ugly i wouldn't have had those presious moments that felt like forever

and ended so quickly



but then again how could you see that ur ugly

when i was the one who tried 2 show you that you were beautiful?



wish u were always ugly

Carefree days
No worries, it's high school days
Always skipping class
Facebook status: smash or pass

I don't know much abut biology
It's alright, though 'cause in 5 years it won't affect me
But, I can tell you about rolling this half
Dime by the dozen, that's when I know math

Wake up and fall back asleep
Show up late look the best because I'm not cheap
Friday night party and I just might go
Leave out at 1 AM, trying not to get caught
But then again you never know

Make a couple friends
Let them know the new me
Creating memories to last until the world ends
High school days, get to know me

i'm starting to get the riff of the argument...
how people talk about this
grand... "singularity"...
    of consciousness, of, what not...
                            what?
how about we settle the whole free speech
debate, first?
learn to crawl before you learn
to walk, and walk before you start
to jump, and jump before elevating it
to acrobatic gymnastics?
    why is no one talking abut
the great convergence?
           hell... free speech this,
free speech that...
                        but... why is everyone
so shy of the establishing
a verbal "chess match" of dialectics?
                    with every comment sections,
there is no comment to begin with...
   the original comment, simply,
becomes lost in what ends up being neither
an echo in a cave, or a plateau with
a credible echo possibility...
it's the common thread of when
science fiction takes over science...
           science fiction jumps three steps ahead
of science... and then the backlash:
the reality didn't catch up
to the science!
                    what to do what to do?!
this free speech, "debate" is missing
the key ingredient...
  i'm sure neither side wants to be right...
but at the same time...
neither side wants to entertain
engaging in dialectics...
   sorry... neither side does...
verbal chess doesn't work upon
solidifying your exodus from the Agora
with a smug-face...
looking pristine, not once challenged
by your own thought to
induce the emotions of doubt...
the point of a dialectic is:
your opinions, comply with my own
opinions, even though they are
divergent ontology...
yet they still have the potential
to comply with what is otherwise
known as the: collective convergence...
however in-line with a dichotomy,
first a convergence must
be established, before the utopian
singularity is sourced as
a rigid architecture of the future...
both sides can speak...
but since neither sides are speaking
to each other...
   a dualism becomes a dichotomy
that doesn't become a dialectics...
less words?

   duality = dichotomy ≠ dialectics...

these companies are not attacking free
speech per se...
    even i can't see any potential
for dialectics...
   i entertain dialectic with
old men on park benches...
  
and that's about it...
           if you can't reason with someone
who's the antithesis of you?
you can't begin to reason with anyone,
esp. yourself!

no, there are certain obstructions
you can't shift... mountains
(last time i heard): were supposed
to be unmovable...
  because they befitted
the metaphor category of wisdom
in man... along with the rivers
and the seas... the forests and the deserts...

no... these people are not going after
free speech...
they're seeking environments where
they can spectate dialectics!
no one wants the sort of free speech
whereby there's an emphasis on
the investment of stating the already
given certainty:
                                "but they're my opinions,
and i'm entitled to have them"...

and i was going to posit a genesis
of dialectics from such a defensive
starting point?! no!
the sacred has already been stated...
so... what dialectic attachment
point do i take?

       none?! you're joking, right?!
none?!
     so one side says one thing,
the other says its own thing...
and i'm... i'm hearing the concept
of "the" singularity"...
but what about the grand *convergence?!

******* milkshake / cocktail of
a humanity's worth of coherence...
it's not like anyone argued
with Hey-Zeus Crisp either...
if they did... they argued around
the ground of also enforcing
   blackmail...
                    they argue... sure...
they disagreed...
but the low-hanging fruit said to them:
he's still going to hang...

see... i'm not even sure i wrote that,
the plethora of doubt
is... so much more entertaining
to preserve the dignity of thought...
than it is to arrive at the plateau of
faith... or the down-trodden
bleeding heart of outright denial...
denial...
              such a boring reality...

you never deny the existence of ghosts,
you always doubt the existence of ghosts...
because, with a denial of the existence
of ghosts?
you put your faith into kettles
switching off while the water has
boiled to 100 degrees Celsius...
    traffic always travels clockwise
on an English roundabout...

  like Sartre noted:
  negation is an article of bad faith...
and... the Quran doesn't
have a word for those
St. Thomas affiliate...
             a denier is a non-believer...
but the book doesn't have a name for...
a doubter... a quasi- / pseudo-believer...
which is asking the BIG question
within the demands to revise the Islamic
text to reconsider those who out-rightly
deny... and those who simply
base their faith...
not on the certainty of faith,
but on the uncertainty of doubt...
treating death with the focus of a child...
like a roller-coaster...
         well... everything from imagination,
memory and thought is intact
upon the birth-death "seance"...
everything is still undeveloped at
the death-birth celebration...
why take away from people the thrill
of death, feeding them certainty,
why stigmatize doubt?
              
   i wasn't born into a certainty
even if i was given a body,
the body delayed my possession of thought...
please... let me the allowance
of having the possession of thought
to delay whatever is left of
a possession of body...
               however that might translate
into its own negation,
of the elevated thought into a post-scriptum
of soul...
               don't think i don't think
myself as mortal...
   but i want to survive the plague
of what others fear...
that some day the party will be over...
for me the party never began...
   and i'm ready for the grand
YWN                      to tAke my heArt.

Gipukaw ko
sa akong damgo
Morag langgam nga ilo
sa salag nga gigubâ sa bagyo.
Ning-syagit ko
ug ngalan nimo

Ning-abut na ka abi nakò
Dinhi sa tapad ko
Akong gitan-aw,
wa may tawo
Ang habol pilô gihapon,
bugnaw maski gaksun nakò

Uli na langga,
mingaw na kaayo.

PANAGINIP (Tagalog translation)

Nagulantang ako
ng aking panaginip
Parang isang ibong ulila
sa pugad na sinira ng bagyo
Isinigaw ko
ang pangalan mo

Dumating ka na akala ko
Dito sa tabi ko
Tiningnan ko,
wala namang tao
Ang kumot tiklop pa rin,
malamig kahit yakapin ko

Uwi ka na mahal,
Sobrang lungkot na dito.

DREAM (English translation)

In a flash, awakened
by a dream, saddened
like a bird orphaned
in a nest the storm had downed
Your name
I called out loud

you have returned, I thought
here by my side, I sought
to feel and I looked, at once
but there was naught
the blanket still neatly folded
and, even as I hugged it, cold as dead  

Come home now my dear
It’s become so lonely here.

it's abut 9pm and I decide I don't want to be alone



there was a car crash earlier that day up west towards Salida--
some Kansas man who was killed by a driver trying to pass
in the right lane, declared deceased on scene, another man
from Monument who was air-lifted to St. Thomas Moore,
no critical injuries.

I tend to ask God for these big signs, signs that I'll recognize. I tell him
that they need to be something I'll notice because you know me, sometimes I can't hear you. Anyway, signs, crashes. A Kansas man died.  It's 9pm and I pull on some jeans and leave the house.

I'm supposed to be at a rodeo dancing, but maybe I wasn't supposed to be there after all. I have this white dress in my closet that you can't even see, tucked between everything else because it's so thin, lays flat beneath the aztec smocks and cream cardigans. I take it out and brush it off, thread my fingers through the open lace--

10pm. When I breathe soft enough the stars look like they're hanging on strings, like I could reach up and snap them off,
they'd be no bigger than dew drops on a spider web
so light they'd drift up in the night breeze and
set up in my own natural atmosphere.

What good would it have done me to be there? I only ask
myself to assuage the warm fear i've been feeling since Friday
night, a lingering umbrage I did not think would stay--
I can see the white stitches in my jeans that look
like they're glowing,
smells like rain out here.
I wish I was out at Chaffey
for a quick moment, enveloping
someone else in this chanel perfume
makin' someone else envious of the
way another man got to spin me out--

I'm trying to be all these people at once, an  
audience of crowd pleasers piled into one body
It's so quiet, I'm so quiet up on the sideways knoll in
Florence, tired of letting people down easy off the sidewalk
curb and being tossed off the bridge over the state highway myself,
I can't help it, I want to say aloud.

I can't help that I am this way, collected.
calm in hearty hysterics, anxious to tell
you about how I've been fixed,
that warm fear growin' hotter
a coal for every man who suggested
I be less than who I am by pourin' more
into my cup,

I'm trying. I'm trying.

from a wonderful night
she came alive
oh my country
obscured in her gloomy might
her love seemed so right

the feign of her tattered story
she bears the burden of Africa
the reign of her battered glory
her body abut and juxtaposed Madagascar

I wish that I fly away
from my path
I might not stray
from the start
I was taught to pray

my dreams to soar in beautiful array
as the nation saddles in its own barrage
lamentations of 56 years' blink
I see on eagle's wings what victory brings
the joy of 36 shining gold rings
too bright to look at
naming and counting one for each

and when twilight was reach
in plenteous joy and happiness
to the people my heart outreach
compensation for years lived
in wood and ash

Poem a day, day 10*

Why can't I write poetry
About things that matter to me?
Or am I really that shallow that all I care about
Is my own feelings of love, passion and loss
Or how tired/busy I am.

I haven't written a single poem about
Feminism, ecology or politics
Or even Star Trek or Doctor Who.
No Red Dwarf, cats or Cat from Red Dwarf.
Heaven knows I've thought about it.

I've thought "there's more to my life than that"
"There's more to me"
"I should write abut such-and-such"
And then sit there
completely blank.

My cat looks at me, sniffing the air
"How could you possibly not write about me?"
And walks off.
His brother lying on the armrest
The world revolves around him in a different way.

Well be more inspiring boys!
Help me out here!
Okay can't blame you
If even Star Trek and Doctor Who aren't doing it.
Plenty of ideas, so few poems

We follow some stupid rules and still not enough.
What does it really take?
We do what it needs to be done and still lose.
It doesn't matter, do your part or not the outcome is still the same.
Saint or not still lose…
Even when the storm calms there it is, another tempest.
How much can our wooden ship withstand?
Sometimes i think it's better to let go and let the stream lure
me to the sea's bottom.
Relief...
But if someone get's used to struggle, just moving through the motions
eventually won't give up won't succumb.
Let the tide ride up and you get drowned.
Ride the tide and let it guide you. Lower your ship and reach your destination.
There are times the road back to the port goes through the heart
of the storm. Unclench your fingers from the wheel and then
wish the sea is with your side. If your hands hold tight to
the wheel, it's a lost cause. Maybe destination it's not the place you direct but the place you abut.
Like a key which unlocks what is most hidden...

Someday you’ll wake up next to her and you will feel the same way you woke up alone,
Someday you will stand in the front of the ocean with hands folded and knees trembling,
Someday your skin’ll be marred with fingernails of a face that you can’t see.
Someday a rebellious gypsy will refuse to abandon your silence and you’ll be homeless forever.
Some nights the wild silhouettes of her will dance on your ceilings and all over your face.
Some nights you will see lights flickering and your heart speaking gibberish.
One day all the venom will wash away
Your skin left all scarlet,
One day all her hounds would runaway
Your sanity abut the forest ruins.

what would you do
if i socked you in the face
what would you do
if i filled you with hate

would you hate me till the end of your days
would you get back up without a daze
would you sock me back
and throw me to the floor
would you hit my head on the grounf
till i breathe no more
would you stand up
and let the blood mix with your tears
would you smile
and end all of your fears
would you do it again
and love it even more
would you do it again
even in the middle of a store
would you even let him/her suffer
would you even let him/her cry and curse
would you even let him/her build his/her hat for the worst
would you plant that seed of hate in his/her brain
would you make him/her scream in pain
would you not let him/her stop
would you make him/her **** a lot
would you let him/her **** anyone but you
would you know what these monsters you've created can do
would he/she tell you that you are not hate
would he/she tell you are simply a victim
an example of what it can create

would he/she tell you that this is your end
would he/she tell that there's nothing abut you he/she would miss
would he/she tell you that hate has no friend
would he/she give you a goodbye death kiss

would you feel betrayed by friends
would you feel that stab in the heart that hate sends
would you be stupid enough to not know why this is happening

would you be sad
would you feel bad
would you go away and die
realizing waht you've done
knowing no one will miss you
no one will cry

knowing all your leaving behind is hate
only fire in the eye
and a heart pierced by a steak

and the longer your in this hole
the deeper it gets
you know what it creates
and it made you pay the ultimate debt


What Would You Do (Love)  is in the works in progress

Internally, something in your head bangs, is this suppose to be your brain? You're lungs contract with every exhale, your heart? sticked so many times back together again it's filled with molecules of needle holes, when you take your first breath the  two compartments of your heart are suppose to abut, but what if it doesn't?

Do not ask me abut the awesome depth of my love dealings
Love us rule with power of words,surmounting all feelings
But does exercise the power of taking all bruises to blessings
Love and beauty remain throughout in strings in all springs

My beloved do believe in strength of love to sail to real belief
My heart has been stolen by a real little lovely innocent thief
On relation of love and beauty one can write books but brief
Love is a reef in ocean or it may bloom on a new tree as a leaf

My sweetheart take me from all this worldly rut to a paradise
Please be more nice my beloved to give to our life more spice
Nor world is concise neither its idiosyncrasies are really precise
My beauty of universe please give advice to your heart to entice

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

She loves me
I love her
Man, how my stomach stirs
when she says words
and when she looks in my direction
Let's just say there's blurs
I'm not really sure
how we ended up here
there were fights on the way
but hey, I've forgotten them now
how can she be so... wow just wow
I could talk abut her hair
I could talk about her smile
I could talk about her.. for quite the while
i would probably crawl a mile
in a pile of crushed viles
Just to hear her say I love you
and I know she does
from the things she does
because throughout the however many months
Everything I wanted she was
Pause.
she just looked this way and I forgot what I was going to say.
but anyways I hope she stays
so together we can number our days
in a number of ways
And I can do my favorite thing
listen to her say
I love you.

Do not ask me abut the awesome depth of my love dealings
Love us rule with power of words,surmounting all feelings
But does exercise the power of taking all bruises to blessings
Love and beauty remain throughout in strings in all springs

My beloved do believe in strength of love to sail to real belief
My heart has been stolen by a real little lovely innocent thief
On relation of love and beauty one can write books but brief
Love is a reef in ocean or it may bloom on a new tree as a leaf

My sweetheart take me from all this worldly rut to a paradise
Please be more nice my beloved to give to our life more spice
Nor world is concise neither its idiosyncrasies are really precise
My beauty of universe please give advice to your heart to entice

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

It's you, who encourage me?
It's you, who guides me to be the best I know how to be?
It's you.

Your words are inspiring.
Your life is thrilling from your rise down to your fall.
Except, greatness you can't keep down.

It's you that stands out before others.
From mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers.
It's you the motivation source.

We might never be able to walk upon water.
Or raise up the dead.
But many things are done for a reason and many seasons.

Some show kindness more than others.
And many does it just for show.
But your heart felt sincerity is real.

We can feel it.
We can read abut it.
More than anything, we can even show it.

We are love.
We are the designated child of God.
Who anointed you to represent him upon earth?
You are him.
In you, we see him.

Love isn't ever wasted, when it's giving.
It's you, who advise us of ways to get to heaven?

i just write and i write and i write
i don't even know where the words come from;
it's like theyre bleeding from my fingertips
and the ink is the blood
i wrote 4 pages today about falling in love
another 6 about how much i wish youd just come back
and i scribbled in the margins how i wish i could get away
there were sentences abut my insignificance
and paragraphs about how i feel disconnected
my hands hurt so ******* much
but how am i to stop when its the only way to stop the hurt

I always said,
"What a man has in his pockets,
says a lot abut him."
I still believe that.
A man carries what he thinks he needs,
or what he thinks will get him what he wants.
As I've grown I can say,
I like how my pockets speak of me.
Some whiskey, some ****, a couple smokes
always a journal and a pen,
or two.
An empty wallet,
and at least two lighters;
that's very important.
With a little intuition,
someone can put those pieces together,
and know me.

Time should mean more to me,
I know.
I shouldn't write about what I've barely
come to understand,
but you, my love,
make words so easy
music so sweet.

Chivalry isn't exactly dead, not yet
and I can't help but think about
properly courting you,
stealing kisses when our escort isn't
paying attention
or writing you disgustingly cheesy love letters
that sound nothing like me.

Despite the short time
I've known you,
I catch myself thinking
about what it might be like.
If the world would be so kind
if Fate wouldn't intervene
if I could get to keep you.
My own little slice of paradise,
of heaven.

I must confess I'm not much of a
believer in what I can't see or feel
but you
pop questions into my head
abut even that.
How can there not be
something inherently pure and good
when you're with me?
How can I not believe
that we were meant for something more
when you feel so right?

Our lives have not been fair,
this I know.
But I think my hardship
might have been worth it
if they brought me to you.