I only took the moon veiled in my cube
I took her innate water off but not for good.
Now the sun can’t take its eyes
off the blindfolded black moon!
Off this night the sunup is yet to unleash
the dawn, let alone the tucked away noon!

Roses are red;
           Blindfolded are you
           dripping wet
           from the things I did to you.

music playing in the background
listen to the words and let your body make the sound
the way i am coming at you, don’t back down
put on this blindfold and then lay you back down
loving it when you call my name- i am addicted to that sound
what goes around, comes around, so i hope you come around.
i hope you don’t take any of this the wrong way
i was thinking about you, so being your on my mind
I’m just writing down, what the words say
I’m a playful person, so I hope you like my wordplay
At the very least, since i am not there-I hope you are feeling this
mouth wide open, as you are reading this.
I knew you’d like poetry, now you are believing this

Stars in their abundance
goodness knows
how many thousands
tiptoed over my little alleyway
in the dark but I didn't lose in sleep.
Nor even to the moon
I didn't tell my dream.

Crackling the roaring light of heaven
over the mountain of the dawn
the master painter shows up
with its bursting colour plate.
The deeply contemplating day shines
out of the night, it gets caught  
soaked in overflowing colour.

But I opted for a blank paper
not a colour copy of my dream.
I wrapped my eye in it with my pride.
Now treading blindfolded on your way
and over to you, I give
me, my eye and my dream!

To Jody;
My five years old friend and nephew

I put down the telephone,
entering a nap of elation,
till the echo of your sweet utterance
On the back of expatriation's wind
Swims away, dims.
By then, medusas of melancholy with their thick sorrow
fill up my throat
and my heart
would blindfolded fall on the knees and
die down…

With good and bad big wolves
tracing lost children or stuffing shaking goat kids into their paunch.
With ravenous bears, malignant hyenas
and crude giants,
garrulous  gracious squirrels, laborious ants
and active voracious hares.
With them, the two of us
had upholstered the land and sky of the wonderland,
and with their voices and whoops all,
we had irritated the dreamland's walls.

No matter how many times
we were building the villages for stories of straw, furze sticks and bricks,
I would only visit your house of mattresses and pillows.

Only for you,
I did revived the dead wolf
in order to revenge the "predatory" lumberjack.
With no regret I kept sending "wolfy" to the roasted chicken's shop
to defeat the hunger,
So that he won't eat the trapped little girl.
And before your smile,
the wolf in walrus moustache would play with the girl till daddy comes and takes her home.

And you are …
popping out, never closing the wide eyes of yours,
waiting for grandpa to take us to the village.
Up from the houses' roofs,
with Qarmeetlak's1 rabbits,
beyond the barbwires and in secret,
we stick the tongues out to the Turkish barracks.
Along with goat kids,
in tracking smugglers' traces,
we fool the landmines,
sneak to the other side of the border.
With smiley faces and hidden bleats,
We ****** the poppies and the grass that grow out from the edges of spring and the craters.
We hide from smuggler's ghosts who
in the  labyrinths of landmines
because of the unclaimed hands and legs are grabbing the collars.
We taunt the jackals' yowling and the patrolmen.
And in front of the rumbling sky, we do our best to look prettier;
Isn't  it "God taking photos of us"?
And like coward puppies we flee and go back to the safe village,
just before the dusk's winds could carry our smell to the angry spirit of Salan2
who is scouring the Kurmanj's Mountain3,
pursuing his endless vengeances.

Till the break of day,
with your slim clever squirreliness,
out of the branches of the most interlocked sorrowful stories,
you were shaking the attached laughs and guffaws
on the  hair of the deceiver Ashrafieh and the grumpy Sheikh Maksood's4 night.
Eventually, in taking its revenge,
the night would stuff you in a small basket and throw you away into the waves of sleep and dream
accompanied with all that eager to see the giants' kingdom and the mice's storehouses,
squirrels' village, their dances and bridals,
the departure will lead you to the waterfalls' cliffs of a dreamy sparrow's new day.
With the beaming love out from our eyes,
you dry up your tousled feathers and
take into the open.

Nevertheless, how simple-hearted the lies were when I kept telling you:
"Dog is a dog, a wolf is a wolf and the kitty is a kitty, and what are we, my Jody?
We are humans!"

I didn't want you to know
how in the world, could a dozen of
rabid armed dogs
smash down the door
and out from your eleven months old eyes,
with a persistent thronged barking,
they did take your dad away to the deepest liars of the ranch of malevolence,
introducing him to all kinds of animality.

How might I explained to you
why in the world, they reduced 'dad' for you
to that thing which every month
from behind a doubled bars
keep sending you a tearful laugh?
Why did they minimized the ancient capital for you into
both of the Political Security Branch and Siednaya's Jail5?

Your fingers had just started taking to writing and drawing.
You had just started
cantering your own stories
along with unsaddled breezes' foals
when herds of jackals with dark mouths
deported 'your Azad' into a fool refuge.
Again,
they
made
you
an orphan.

Inside the brushwood of the story and the wilderness of the epic,
since neither your fingers have become able to rise the sign of victory correctly,
nor could your throat match the letters of 'Kurdistan' properly,
whatever cave you step in,
no matter how shiny is the globe in the witch's hands,
she would never be able to tell you,
these lacrimatory mist and clouds,
with the emerging of every spring,
from which valleys of the ranch of malevolence  
did they come to overflow the Kurdish neighborhoods.
How did they vilely with no permission go up to the third floor
in order to join you in a poisoned feverish soiree.
And since when
the creatures of darkness
that they had brought
have been grazing their hyenas
among our fresh hopes.


Hence…
when I tell you that
I'll come back with the snowfall,
it is nothing but a lie!
When you ask me to come back in summer
in order to hang on my back
and swim together
along with the little fishes,
such an imagination!
When you are not sleeping in my empty bed anymore
Intending to let my pillow and blanket await for
my return,
only a childish dream!!
Yet, when you
in the sweet and soft Afrini accent of yours
say to me
'Ozod, I mithed you thoo thoo thoo much',
my heart
would blindfolded fall on the knees and
die down…

Azad Ekkaş
Roni_alend@outlook.com
Erbil: 3-1-2011

1967 san francisco is transformed into city of missing children haight ashbury brims with scraggly orphans thousands sit on street curbs live in cars hang out on floors of shops roam streets parks sleep on sidewalks unthinkable social cultural phenomenon Odysseus embraces madness walking through different neighborhoods going without food sleep in golden gate park floral smells so strong he can taste flowers kids openly pass joints acid doses trip dance make music laugh Odysseus is risk-taker but he is not street smart along with flocks of totally wasted kids street hustlers abound Odysseus sets down backpack beside eucalyptus tree rests when he wakes backpack is gone he is penniless disconnected hitchhikes across bay to berkeley less congested more manageable meets some runaways like him but not like him they squatter in abandoned house off telegraph avenue maybe 20 hippies crashing in house Odysseus adopts enormous closet hidden in back bedroom as his space has small window feels like sanctuary sometimes he comes home finds 5 or 6 kids sleeping in closet in a way people in house become his family tribe some of people are suspicious especially older secretive man with 2 tongue-tied underage girls whom he claims are his daughters Odysseus suspects veiled ****** exploitation girls are lovely yet behave frightened repressed life on street does not come easy telegraph avenue overflows with lost souls searching to hook-up fragrance of frankincense drifts amidst music drug deals rip-offs bullying brawls hierarchy from hell’s angels down Odysseus stays high dances sometimes panhandles “i live in commune with 2 pregnant girls” whatever cash he collects scores acid **** subsists on diet of gum candy sunflower pumpkin seeds sometimes ketchup with french fries his acne crescendos he learns if he drops acid daily by third or fourth day he cannot get off no matter how much he doses tries peyote cactus buttons after waiting nearly hour to get off he suffers stomachache dizziness projectile vomits finally flies into freaky hallucinations he swallows mescaline capsules feels sick to his stomach forgets about his nausea trips for 9 hours tries psilocybin mushrooms laughing straight through night experiments with stp trips for 3 days Bobby Stern and Martha Quigley come out from chicago to visit they are curious about the scene need to hook up Odysseus introduces them to his friends shows them telegraph avenue he turns and they have vanished he does not know where they have gone everybody is losing everybody new kids show up everyday oakland **** named red rat kidnaps Martha is heiress from distinguished chicago family their disappearance makes chicago papers after week Bobby and Martha manage to escape they never reveal to Odysseus what red rat did to them radio plays doors’ “light my fire” and jimi hendrix’s "purple haze" Odysseus has crush on beautiful blonde Patty she  ran off for summer from her parent’s home in sunset section of san francisco Odysseus and Patty hang out go see country joe and fish in provo park on sundays hitchhike into city watch Jefferson Airplane play for free in golden gate park hitchhike to marin see Grateful Dead jam at muir beach dude hands out free acid Odysseus is total acidhead acid reveals everything in new intensified light *** on acid is beyond *** wilder than *** more primal *** so intense it transcends limits of eroticism acid helps Odysseus realize his true self his pain sadness tears lies crazy-*** side first tingling tremors in stomach chest hands then initial flashes of sparkle traces of color echoes of giggling laughter lucid thoughts sometimes he swallows such large doses all he can do is stare out at white light what is it about massive hits of acid? measure of how fierce his spirit? self-punishment? escapism? he wonders why he so desperately needs to escape from what whom? himself? Mom’s numerous efforts to convince him he is mentally disturbed? Dad’s fists? escape from real world to where? Odysseus hangs with Pluto skinny 16 year old ****-addict golden wavy hair rotting teeth finesse with girls Pluto claims crystal **** enhances *** more than acid needles frighten Odysseus he lets one of Pluto’s girls hit him up with methamphetamine feels sudden overwhelming rush through head body forgets about needle before it ever leaves his arm having been initiated Odysseus begins scoring with Pluto’s girls Pluto knows tons of girls Odysseus loves feeling numb free being out of control not giving a **** getting ****** ****** by pretty girl if he could have his way he would go from ****** to ****** with pretty girl all day every day deep in drug induced state because drugs lower inhibitions allow them to explore some sick disgusting stuff that is paradise for Odysseus he is rapidly slipping into street life drug addiction wakes up with ants crawling in his hair witnesses numerous fights freak-outs 2 different kids o.d. while he is present lots of creepy stuff  by early august realizes he might wind up dead soon or rotting like Pluto Odysseus has spirit but troubled by what he sees troubled enough to return home go back to school he feels lost desperate alone not thinking plots drug deal swindle double-crosses some people guilt and shame for conning people haunts him for years he gives Pluto half the money tells him to share with Patty with his cut buys ticket back to chicago Penelope is first to greet him she gives him big hug comments “you need a shower and shave real bad!” his hair is wild scraggly beard Odysseus holds on to her he has missed his little sister glad to be near her feels panicky his parents will punish him Mom and Dad are relieved but agitated their worry and shame at his flight have turned to anger resentment they rationalize he selfishly ran off merrymaking for 3 months they sternly make plans for his next semester while Odysseus was away in california Penelope has ****** ******* for first time in back seat of Jed Zurbeck's black pontiac Penelope in secret goes to see doctor for pregnancy test doctor recognizes Penelope’s last name calls house Odysseus answers phone doctor asks to speak with Mr. or Mrs. Schwartzpilgrim Mom picks up phone doctor informs her Penelope is pregnant all hell breaks loose doctor makes house call with Mom and Dad present offers 2 options for Penelope “you can be picked up by limousine on state street and blindfolded you will be taken to an undisclosed location where abortion procedure is performed then re-blindfolded and returned by limousine to state street or you can report incident as **** and get signatures of three physicians then have abortion in a hospital” Mom and Dad choose to report it as a **** fabricate story about Penelope walking home from school and being grabbed pulled into alley by black man who rapes her Penelope is made to tell lie three times deeply disturbs her after abortion is done in hospital Dad makes Penelope swear not to admit abortion to anyone insists she tell Jed Zurbeck she made up stupid lie and she was never really pregnant Penelope obeys and tells no one

Are you a witness of the precise moment
on that very proverbial, unpredictable day
when everyone did mind the gap
but the Ramadan moon took a step?

None could time it at first, as if it got out
from a black hole or an uncharted water well:
down the trail, who can tell?

Now a day or two is gone, has passed by.
The moon is in the fast lane soaring high,
and fills the orb with serene soft light.

Ah, buddies catch up, the suave fireflies.
Tons of these stay awake in the night.
Before they fly away, vanishing afar
into the epic portion of the night.
A confluence down the black moon,
only to catch a glimpse of any pattern:
a morning star or a forming pin bar,
a slice of light on a gingerly lit chart.
Premiering the Eid moon’s first blush.
Yet, if only one can time it, when will it flash?

Deep down a black moon, all eyes black out.
Still, how can one sigh though? Ah,
the unpredictable black moon, should it show
just a peek, showers the earth with Eid’s joy!

Will it show up in no time, far from the sight—
galaxies light up the shady nook of night.
A houri in the Eden rings the alarm.
The veiled bunch of fairies push the sky.
Every star throws its hat, only to tell first
when a crescent moon will crop up
And with the first spill of moonlight,
topflight it goes, pushing the boat out!

A walk down the black moon
without a light or water gone into the blue,
As though walking dead, blindfolded.
No pattern, decimals of Pi undefined by design,
but spot on gets to the apex spike!

There’s still an unmarked blank space
the light on this way doesn’t paint.
And this time, the time won’t tell
is there anyone who can is anyone’s guess.
So should the houri dare to run, then
cherubic she be on her flawless flaw,
rushes to ask the Queen of Heaven!

Oh, good luck to her, a wild one.
Time the black moon, its first glance
precisely when the Eid moon will crop up.
Enlighten us, we are more than curious.
Tell us, too—don’t just tweet it to the stars.

Arms of comfort and reassurance can change,
Quite quickly.
clinging with a new purpose.
Regardless though, I shall fall into your arms,
with faith in the goodness I had seen such time ago.
Blindfolded, I will wait for your warm embrace.
Blindfolded, I will wait for the caress of your delicate fingers.

There is no substitute for the unmatched craving of
another soul.
So please,
Try.

Open my heart, with force and might
for it’s hinges may be rusty,
Like an abandoned home.
and let in the gust
of hope and love,
to fill this empty heart.
To give life to the darkness within me.

Do not leave me here
Blindfolded, with arms wide open
Waiting for what will not come.
A blindfolded fool you have made me.

We had a very happy conversation about family matters.

Mom, Dad. I’m OK.
They’ve been really honest with me
but they’re perfectly willing to die for what they’re doing.
And I want to get out of here
but the only way I’m going to
is if we do it their way.
And I just hope that you’ll do what they say
Dad
and just do it quickly.
I really am alright.
I just hope I can get back to everybody really soon.

My little girl.

Catherine and Randy gave impeccable dinner parties.

I am an Establishment person.

I am being held as a Prisoner of War
and not as anything else.
I mean I am being treated
in accordance with
international codes of war.
I’m not left alone, and I’m not just shoved off somewhere.
I mean, I am fine.

Also, since I am an example
and it’s really important
that everybody understand that
you know,
I am an example and a warning.

And so people should stop acting like I’m dead.

Mom should get out of her black dress,
that doesn’t help at all.
and just hurry.
Bye.

Patty honey I want you to know
that your father is doing everything in his power.
Millions of people all over the world are praying for you
I know it’s been a long time sweetheart
but keep up your courage
and you keep praying
pretty soon god will touch their hearts
and they’ll send you home.

Mom, Dad.
I've been hearing reports about the food program.
So far it sounds like you and your advisors
have managed to turn it into a real disaster.
Anyway, it certainly didn't sound like the kind of food
our family is used to eating.

I called him a couple of weeks ago and said,
Hey, Randy, let's play tennis.
We haven't played tennis in months
and he said
Gosh. I just can't. I'm busy.
I know he's got a lot on his mind,
But, I think he's pretty obsessed with this.

Mom, Dad.
Tell the poor and oppressed people of this nation
what the corporate state is about to do.
Warn Black and poor people
that they are about to be murdered
down to the last man, woman and child.
Tell the people,
Dad
that the removal of expendable excess,
the removal of unneeded people
has already started.

I have chosen to stay and fight.
I have been given the name Tania
after a comrade who fought alongside Che in Bolivia.
It is in the spirit of Tania that I say,
'Patria o Muerte, Venceremos.'

She was one of the prettiest young women south of the Mason‐Dixon line.

Q. Okay. As a matter of fact, when you got to 1827 Golden Gate, or this apartment on
Golden Gate, you were not being held in that closet all the time, were you?
A. Yes, I was.
Q. You were?
A. Yes.
Q. Was there a previous closet in which you were held?
A. Yes.

DEATH TO THE FASCIST INSECT THAT PREYS UPON THE LIFE OF THE PEOPLE

She is a winsome beauty and her sweetness of manner has endeared her to all who know her

Whatever happened to the real men in this world? Men like Clark Gable? No one would have carried off my daughter if there had been a real man there.

She was somewhat of a revolutionary savant.
We kidnapped a freak.
I think that she was spectacular.
At that point, it was against her will to go home.

Q. And you moved in a car, I take it?
A. Yes.
Q. Were you blindfolded?
A. Yes.
Q. And whose car was it, do you know?
A. I don’t know. I was put into a garbage can that was ******* and put in the trunk of the car.
Q. And then, was the garbage can taken into the apartment on Golden Gate when you arrived?
A. Yes.
Q. Were you in it?
A. Yes.
Q. And you were placed in a closet immediately, is that correct?
A. Yes.

I. She’s an amoral person
thought that the rules did not apply to her.
She lied to nuns at school
about her mother having cancer
in order to get out of an exam
engaged in ****** activity
at an early age
and experimented with drugs
such as LSD.

II. Velcro Theory defined the aimless, lost souls
such persons, he said, who float around
in an empty moral space
and then find stuck to them
the first random ideology they bump into.

III. She is a celebrity prisoner of war
but the other thing
is that listening to her voice
is kind of hypnotizing
and not at all unpleasant
she speaks in this whisper
the well-enunciated voice
that someone called
the rich girl’s voice
The eerie voice of an heiress
and it's hard not to admire her composure
considering the ordeal she just went through.

We didn't know whether we were looking at a live girl or a robot.

Greetings to the people.
This is Tania.
Gabi crouched low with her *** to the ground.
Perfect love and perfect hate reflected in stone cold eyes.
To shoot first and make sure the pig is dead before splitting.
I died in that fire on 54th Street,
but out of the ashes I was reborn.
I know what I have to do.

Catherine was mentally and physically exhausted after the kidnapping. No wonder she developed a drinking problem.

Q. Okay. And is it true, Miss Hearst,
that you in the presence of Thomas Mathews ejected a live round from the M-I
that you had near you
and inserted that in the clip,
and put the clip back in the weapon?
A. I don't recall, it is possible.
Q. It is possible you may have.
And did you, in fact, also at that time
load a couple of live rounds
into the chamber of a revolver, a pistol?
A. I don't recall.
Q. Did you give Bill Harris a pistol
in the presence a Tomas Mathews?
A. I don't recall.
Q. You don't recall?
A. No.

I’ll think of it all tomorrow—I can stand it then.

I think this has been extremely ******* her
She's what the kids call ‘spaced out.’
Her religion holds her together.
And when you talk to her,
you see reality escapes her.
All she can say is that people are
‘persecuting’ Patty.
That's the word she uses,
‘persecution.’
We all love Patty,
and God knows she's had a terrible time,
but the whole complexity of the situation
seems to escape Catherine.

You're being told this
so you'll understand why I was kidnapped.
The S.L.A. has declared
war against the Government
I'm telling you now why this happened
so that you'll know
so that you'll have
something to use,
the knowledge
to try to get me out of here.
Bye.

I’m the happiest mother in the whole world.

I hope that you'll make sure that they don't do anything else like that Oakland business.

Q. Do you recall you spoke those words, Miss Hearst?
A. Can I see the transcript?

I don't believe Patty's legal problems are that serious. After all, she's primarily a kidnap victim. She never went off and did anything of her own free will.

From the moment I was kidnapped,
they consistently attempted to
discredit the revolutionaries.
After the first communique was received,
the pigs reacted by hauling out the stress machines.
The machines indicated I was being tortured
and kept awake 24 hours a day.
I guess that all the pigs expected me
to keep my mouth shut,
but I was furious.
They put away their trickology for a while.
If you believe the media,
you'd think I was totally weird.
According to them, I never mean anything.

Catherine, while still blond and attractive, has aged around the corners of the eyes.

Greetings to the people,
this is Tania.
Our actions of April 15
forced the Corporate State
to help finance the revolution.
As for being brainwashed,
the idea is ridiculous beyond belief.
I am a soldier in the People's Army.

I am Tania and We are not fooling around.

What could have been a tremendous instrument for change—Patty's kidnapping—has failed, and their old attitudes toward life—I guess it's called ‘conservatism’—are back

The kids who went to public schools
were not the kind of people
we should have close associations with.
As a result, I spent twelve years
almost totally surrounded by young people
who were busily developing
ruling class aspirations.

She has nowhere to go,
as resulted in only a change of captors.
But at least now,
as long as society is her
captor,
she does not have to worry about being killed.
Freedom may be a more awesome
alternative
-- you are not here to decide that.
We have a framework,
the SLA predicted this trial.
If we can't break the chain
at some point in their predictions,
there are going to be other Patricia Hearsts,
the blueprint is plain,
it works

A year and a half after her kidnapping,
she's in the safe arms of the law.
So, what does she do?
Patty gives the revolutionary salute,
even when she's in handcuffs.
And when she's booked,
she's asked her occupation
and what does she say?
Urban guerilla.

Bailey, I just –
I don't know him,
you know,
like he just kind of drifts in
and you know,
says blah, blah, blah
and I just go,
oh,
okay.

It was never true that our objective was to reconvert her.

You can almost see how Patty couldn’t relate to her—you know, trying to be so self-righteous and so upright.

Well, I always knew
that the Lord was in my life,
kind of on my shoulder.
I started to stray off
I always knew His hand
was there to bring me back.
I got to the house,
put my bags down in the entry,
went right to the kitchen
and the first thought on my heart was
I need to hear Jesus.
I picked up that Bible
and started in Matthew 1:1.
For that whole five days
I read and cried
and read and cried.

In short order, she returned to being the Patty Hearst of Hillsborough, California, the heiress herself.

It's kind of fun because back then,
there's nothing else to do but paint your nails.
It's really exciting.
I have been crocheting now.
At least, my mother came in and she asked –
she had asked me,
about my hair,
you know,
like
can I change it back?
She asked if there was a beauty parlor.

Her eyes are,
for the most part,
downcast,
as if she were sharing a secret with
herself.

She’s such a devoted, old-fashioned Southern lady, that we just died watching her facade break. That hysteria wasn’t just grief that Patty was gone—it was guilt, you know, ‘What have I done wrong?’

I'm being treated in accordance
with the Geneva Convention
and one of the conditions being
that I am not being tried
for crimes which I'm not responsible for.
I'm here because
I'm a member of a ruling class family,
and I think you can begin to see the analogy.

She writes these dramatic
love letters to her boyfriend saying,
"I want to keep up the fight for the revolution."
And she wants to overthrow the government in America,
which she spells A-M-E-R-I-K-K-K-A.

Q. And you were reading a paper, were you not, when they were in the store?
A. Yes.
Q. And you looked up from that paper, did you not, and you saw that William Harris was being held on the ground by someone and being detained, isn’t that true?
A. Yes.
Q. And you picked up an automatic weapon and shot in the direction of Mel’s Sporting Goods Store?

OBJECTION

I have a really nice brown pantsuit.
Al got it.
He has really good taste.

Trish Tobin
is telling her
that she is about to head off to Switzerland
to go skiing for three weeks.
I mean,
so what you have
in this compressed circumstance
is the old life skiing in Switzerland
for three weeks,
and Patty is saying,
I've got a life now.
I've got a new life.

The Hearsts are really ramping up for this one.
He is a bright guy,
but in terms of just his manner and his dress,
you couldn't help but be struck by
how square he was.

Q: I've become conscious and can never go back to the life we had before." Do you recall saying those words?
A: I don’t recall seeing a transcript of that tape.

I have chosen to stay and fight.

She is still an uncommonly handsome woman, prettier in fact than any of her daughters.

It’s a miracle she survived at all.
The ordeal nearly killed me,
Mrs. Hearst once admitted and,
asked what sustained her,
she answers instantly: My religion.
Yet her victory over despair
sometimes seems more apparent than real.
After her divorce, she moved to Beverly Hills,
where she supported Catholic causes
and joined the Beverly Hills Garden Club.

I just want to tell you like, my politics are real different from way back when.
Obviously, right.

Q. Is it not true that you ejected
from your automatic weapon
a live round and placed into it
an additional clip?
A. I did not have an automatic weapon.
Q. You did not?
A. No.
Q. What type of weapon did you have?
A. It was an M-I carbine.

She’s a victim of thought control by terrorists. And all I can do is hope and pray that God will bring her home again.

She was de-programmed and de-radicalized,
returned to the persona
more similar to what she was
She was essentially brainwashed
by her side team and her lawyers.
By the time she walked into the courtroom,
nail polish,
nice pair of shoes,
very well dressed,
it was impressive.

I'm terribly happy. More happy than predacious.
Do you have any notion what you'll say to her when you see her?
I'll tell her I love her.
Are there questions that you want to ask her?
No questions in my mind.


I want to see my parents, and my sisters... I'm really happy to be going home.

Hold it with nothing
only behold with the eyes!
Lo, this crescent Moon:
The heaven's smile in the night!

It’s the discovery made
walking down the black moon.
Without a light in the sight
as if walking blindfolded
but didn't go into the blue.

Took a trip into the matrix
without squaring the circle.
With no pattern, no more decimals of pi
undefined by design but found the Moon!

Walk blindfolded through the city
to not see is a pity
unable to see the light
on this beautiful night
as we reach the mirror pool
judgement passed
like we're crazy

We take off our socks and shoes
as people exchange their views
Through looks and glances
we take our chances
and continue to run through the fountain
as the night become later
and later

numbness felt in our toes
as the unheated water shows
what it can really do
we put on our shoe
the the other
feet still wet
From the water as we leave
maybe something different next week.

I have been doing a lot of work with my feelings lately.  I have avoided them for most of my life because, well the bad ones outweigh the good ones.  

The rest of them were f@#ked or beaten out of me.

I have always believed that my feelings only led to trouble and pain.  A simple feeling stated as a child sent me tumbling down a rabbit hole of horrific pain.  An innocent smile was interpreted to be nothing but filthy desire.  A frown was nothing but blatant rebellion that had to be dealt with.

My thinking is extremely black and white.  Good or bad.  Right or wrong.  But what I'm learning is that feelings don't fall easily into any of those categories.  The classifications that I have used to reason my life into some semblance of order do not work for feelings.

So walking in this grey area is very difficult for me.  I cannot make much sense of what I allow myself to feel and if I do, I get stuck.  The detachment I have felt to my memories is slowly being bridged by the missing feelings.  And that is terrifying.

I have always been able to share, matter of factly, the details I have chosen to disclose.  And I'm very afraid that those details were the easy ones; the ones I could disconnect from and push the feelings onto someone else.

Remember those rabbit holes?  When I find the feelings associated with that pain it's like falling down that hole bound, gagged, and blindfolded.  My logic was my only means of control and I've lost it amongst the feelings.  The only way to climb out of that hole?  

Literally feel my way out.

The car will edge past the truck maybe
and maybe we'll survive this message
playing on repeat, apologies like daft lilies
and then you go ahead and tell me that you've never
learnt from your mistakes, or my mistakes.
That mistakes are only bad unless you change the order
of analogy. This experiment has been contaminated.
Now a fresh batch. Trust me, there's a point to this.
I'm counting back from a hundred and two
and you've got me standing in the middle of the highway,
blindfolded; this is what loving you felt like,
you said. But I think it was more dramatic in my head.
Nuclear fission and the seige of Dresden dressed
up playing Adagio in D minor; I'm dust. I'm dust.
I've become ash and misery and I'm trying to stay inside you
but you've been coughing a lot, and who's to say
you were holding your breath for something exciting,
I just know for a fact that at the end of this beep,
you'll know what to do and yet
you're not going to leave another message.

My love,my heart,
I will love you till the day the Sun and the moon hug,
And the stars frown with jealousy.
We will be married by Eros the God of Love,
In my dream Castle at the edge of a small cliff.
I will be blindfolded like Eros to show my love for you is blind.
The bridesmaids will be Angels on wings carrying bows and arrows and blowing kisses,
The birds will sing"Here  Comes The Bride",
Ares the father of Eros will give you away,
Aphrodite will bless us so we have a sensual love life and many children.
On our wedding day the rivers will climb the mountains,
The fishes will fly in the sky,
The flowers will bloom in the ocean,
The trees will glitter with gold,
The leaves will be studded with emeralds,
The fruits will have diamond seeds.
People will turn into animals and animals will turn to handsome and pretty people.
Love,we will have the wedding of the century.

What is the versatile autobiography
of this bountiful of rice
boiling in my American kitchen?

This crop of microscopic slabs of grain
that was the one edible source
of preventing my ancestors' emaciation

One of such few things
connecting me
to my roots,
those things I can't help but bleach
in whitewashed and rebellious peroxide.

I will valiantly hang my head down low in shame
at the examples of my flesh and earth,
"those National Geographic cavemen,"
all the time being the zoo animal,
being blindfolded and caged by
these "secular, American liberals."

I love this food
that I consume like a vacuum,
this merengue and bachata
that I so happily shake my *** to;
but nowhere did I sign up
for these commandments
that I was appointed
based on the location
that I popped out onto.

they meet at hospital locked unit for torture victims undisclosed site no unauthorized access their condition experiences high risk public relations for war effort mainly patients seclude themselves in anxious solitude when not in anxious treatment they will remain under strict government surveillance until war is over at which time another administration will determine their resolve

she graduated from Stanford with Masters in 9 languages employed jointly by Hachette Livre and Random House Mondadori publishers United Nations attaché interpreter translator then Special Forces Black Ops

he graduated P.H.D. from M.I.T. in political military economic social information infrastructure systems tactical behavior strategy campaign employed by private security contractors consortium assigned to unidentified location

her captors splayed arms legs to table force fed 1 gallon ***** down throat 2 gallon enema without anesthesia sewed shut eyelids **** sphincter then starved rat inserted in ******

his captors blindfolded handcuffed victim prepare beheading live internet feed decide instead shackle him to wall douse gasoline ignite water hose scorching body 3rd degree burns then apply nail-gun through testicles ***** dowel to temporal lobe

act 1 scene 1

small unused visiting room 2 gray couches end table with lamp vase of plastic flowers

HE sits in wheelchair severe burn scars to face scalp body memory loss hoarse raspy voice stiff protracted body motion

SHE under continuous psychotherapy supervision patient suffers severe PTSD shaky submissive prescribed modified combinations of 13 medications (Prozac Adapin Vivactil Nardil Desyrel Wellbutrin BuSpar Klonopin Vistaril Neurontin Inderal Catapres Seroquel) administered twice daily

HE i brought you bacon strips in napkin from breakfast

SHE (eyelids flutter hands tremble) thank you but you keep it (pause) you know i used to be vegetarian

HE i know i look monstrous get over it there’s a real human being trapped inside this mutilated mess

SHE i i i can’t talk (pause) don’t know what to say (pause) after they sewed me up they ripped me apart shoved rodent to gnaw my insides (pause) skinned cooked made me eat it

HE you’re still alive aren’t you quit your whining show some gratitude stop being such a big baby

SHE how dare you ******* accuse me you’ve got you’re ****** **** nerve

HE i apologize please forgive me i’m not myself since the injuries i’m desperate for diversion pain management escape from excruciating pain nightmare thoughts i still endure

SHE who’s the big baby now

HE please help me overcome this consuming terror distract me with your loveliness please be my muse

SHE i’m no healer what do you mean be your muse

HE inspire me open yourself up to me arouse feelings beyond my suffering

SHE i’m useless look at me i’m a basket-case

HE spread your legs let me see

SHE what! you’re rude blunt disgusting

HE show me your cooch you got ***** hair?

SHE oh god you are so ****** creepy repulsive (pause) and I’m not a very hairy person

HE come on darling work with me stroke me relieve me

SHE i don’t even want to think or know about it go take care of it yourself

HE i’ve tried i can’t stay focused i see my disfigurement then get sidetracked i can’t get myself off

SHE all i am to you is a piece of *** you brutal *******

HE you could show a little tenderness maybe nurturing fix what’s broken give it up to me girl please i beg you let me do you or do me

SHE i was informed your ***** is shredded testicles disengaged

HE who told you that it’s a lie my ***** are maimed yet intact my **** still gets ***** granted it’s not a pretty sight keep your eyes shut

SHE (body twitches) you want power over me

HE ***** power i want some release i want you in control you in charge of my ******* please be my curing goddess

SHE (looks away) i don’t trust you

HE what’s not to trust i’m a pitiful casualty of war just like you we weren’t born like this but we’re both now doomed useless pathetic

SHE you could try being more polite civil congenial perhaps if we were friends first liked each other and you won my sympathies but you’re so forceful intrusive

HE war does that to a person

SHE please make an effort

HE you mean if i talk nice you’ll consider

SHE i will take it into consideration

HE i think you’re pretty more than just pretty beautiful

SHE i’m shattered damaged wrecked ruined

HE i see beauty in your face figure beauty in your words reactions

SHE i’m afraid to let anyone inside

HE i’ll be real gentle i promise

SHE i’m scared

HE yeah i’m scared too scared i’ll shoot blood instead of *****

SHE shut up

HE help me please find a way back to myself a way to accept love respect you

SHE hmmm uhhh since you phrase it that way i’ll think about it i’m not promising anything just considering (pause) ok? (pause) how would we go about doing this?

HE we used up our free time today they’ll be searching for you begin picturing in your mind how you would like it done imagine feeling loved protected

SHE (eyelids waver) help me learn slow how to do this dance

HE every step of the way

SHE thank you see you tomorrow

Your misconceived notions,
Are merely reflections
Of a false
Outdated philosophy.
One that has been around
Since long before
Being tan was beautiful.
From a time when
The common man
Was ignorant.
He lacked the knowledge
That we now possess.
He had no Newton,
No electricity
No Information Age.
He believed it
Because he knew
No better than what
He was told to know.
Afraid of everything
No understanding
He was a blind man
Because he was blindfolded
By promises and threats
Of eternity.
Blindfolded by the elite,
Who used it
As a tool for ruling.
Now, even those that
We perceive to be elite
Are blindfolded.
But you do not
Have to be blind.
You exist in
The Information Age.
You can cut it off
And see!
For the very first time.

My eyes were trapped in the dark
blindfolded, hold the cigar
the Viet-Com may have won the war
but my surroundings smelled like a grass heaven
in the background 50 Cent’s “In Da Club” playing
and then she sat on my lap
feeling anxious while my hands were tied
let’s just pause and go back in time...

(10 Minutes Ago)

She pulls on my heart strings
like a puppeteer from above
the pendulum of my feeling swings
with every step she takes towards my door
the anticipation knows no precipitation,
the monsoon of her kiss
the outback of her reach
the caribbean sea of my ship,
lost in her isles, her eyes, her love,
then I hear a knock on the door.

She knocks ...1...2...3...4
opened up, I said hi, she launched her lips against mine
in an euphoric stupor, I tasted her breath
while she ropes her arms around my neck
let’s call it “The Aussie Missile Crisis”
she pushed me down on a folding chair
as the right index on her lips shushed me
went into the bedroom with her “bag of goodies”.

Came back out wearing a school-girl outfit
looking more “**** Bill” than “Hit Me Baby One More Time”
giddy as I watched her taking off the tie
impatient buttons divorcing their holes one by one
while she twirled, she danced, she teased
sealing with a kiss, tying to the chair my wrists
her breast against my mouth, I was a cub nearly starved
looks like Mrs. McDonald brought the farm.


...and that’s when her bra came off
to find their way around my pupils
my trouser friend could no longer be contained
with impatient hands, there was no time to sulk
I was more anxious to smash than the Incredible Hulk
suppressing my angst, my zipper, her leather
finding myself inside her beautiful lips
touching the roof her moist heaven.

My hands still tied, while she help my thights
real hard, real soft, real smooth
like her silky tongue, wet like May flowers
climbing up and down the stairs of the Eiffel Tower
she was a cosmic reaction, I was Yellowstone
let me come so you can climb on top
of Mount Everest, from there we could see the Earth
the land, the ocean, the skies, let’s fly together.

...and we did, lifted off from the chair
to soak the water from the clouds
to come back crashing on the couch
and my hands finally free to explore
her breast
her cheeks
the smoothness of her waist
her ****
the erosion I couldn’t contain
her legs over her face
touching
caressing
kissing
biting
trusting
in short
*******
until we both came
back from wherever we went
to just lay there, gasping for air
touching our faces, both smiling
like satisfied school children that schemed
red cheeks, blue *****, smoked the green
I was Joe D, she was my Marilyn
thus ending
“The Aussie Missile Crisis”.

Uhh..,I'm just gonna **** around on this one, lights, camera, action *****..yoo,Young Ston, of course it's still gone be dat real ****.. Day trill spit..Yeah That unbelievable **** dawg..my ***** you should already know Dat tho dawg..
Let's go..(Uhh2)..(Yeah2)..

(Lights, Camera, Action3),we filming , we back Yeah, we back man..(Yeah2)..(Lights, Camera, Action3)..Yeah we filming,..yeah we back in business again..Yeah we back man...(Uhh2)..(Yeah2)..(Light Camera Action2)
Yeah ***** we back to filming , no acting..This is a true story yeah a documentary of a young *****, that was broke once, but used his mind to get up outta the struggle...Yeah Young Ston,..Uhh let's get it cracking..(Lights Camera Action2)..Lights Camera Action *****..

Let's get it..Let's go..Let the cameras roll & dont stop filming at all,..Lights ,Camera, Action dawg..Uhh OFTR we ready for whatever, ***** we building an empire, & a palace to relax , smoke & Trap at my *****, let's get back to business, Yeah..(Lights, camera, action..3)..ain't no stopping, no quitting.. **** all of them doubters *****, they even more disappointed & mad now ****..they shoulda stayed on they hustle instead of waisting time being on my **** dawg.. Ayo.., I came outta no where so prepared like the attack on Pearl Harbor, blasting wisdom *****..**** the system *****, its very curropted..
They don't give a **** about us ******, They just want us trapped & blindfolded, but OFTR we breaking free from all of this corruption,..Uhh..
(Lights, Camera, Action3)

Forget listening to these other ****** music they wack to me, they with the gay agenda, They hypnotizing & brainwashing the youth mane..so forget worshipping those faggets, they ******* **** & bending over just to get a check,...Only Jesus gets my praise..Aye man..
OFTR, no we ain't kissing nobody ***, **** the white man, he's Satan, **** a major deal, I don't need that, Naw *****..I'm bossing myself, forget Bossing around my *****, we all bosses man, I'm helping my ****** out that's tryna get wealthy, my ***** ain't nothing selfish about OFTR, all we ever do is help the people, **** being a celebrity *****, OFTR we all leaders my *****, let's get back to the action..Yeah..Yeah..Aye..Uhh
(Lights, Camera, Action..3)..***** get to filming..aye

Only Real ****** get the privilege to **** wit me, I only hang wit (The Family2)..is my security yo my ***** if you don't like me then  stay from round my way..& if you talk bad about my team then you are attempting to get hurt mane, just stay away Cuhz, you dealing wit real gangsters man, no movie, but you can call this The Rise of The ****** Disciple, Imma young ***** that made his own way Yeah..
I be thuggin everyday, I go gangsta on these beats, I be gangsta in these streets, Imma real *****,Imma Poet, Imma legend, Yeah I'm more than a rapper *****, I'm the Streets Preacher, Yeah mane..(OK3)..cool,..Let's do it..Uhh..

(Lights, Camera, Action3)..we filming, Yeah (lights, camera, action3)..***** we back, Yeah ***** we back in business man, Yeah we back to filming again, Yeah we back , *****,Yeah we  back in business man..(Yeah ***** we back3)..in business again..Aye..
lights , camera, action..yeah (Lights, Camera2)..action..Lights , Camera, Action..

/(Lights, Camera2)..action../2

(Yeah ***** we back3)..in business..
Young Ston OFTR
(Yeah *****3)..(Yeah*2)..Uhh

He quietly appears so many years have passed smelling the amazing greener then life grass a potent filled with magic the invisible man he passed.
Splendor in the grass

Ehh Oh yuck someone
abandoned you
On the runway
He Grilled walked in
fashionable late
The head of his
mansion

You needed to
tolerate
Oh! Chuck
Full of gas
shattered_
her mind
with scars coming
toward her
like glass

The wake-up call
The lady of
all envy
Winning
an Emmy
Adelle
We could
of had it all
Another name
Amy
For the love,
Of a ghost
Like the
Candy Man
Invisible man
from
Ireland

Something got posted
seductively
Blindfolded hosted
Designed into his
Money hand
Powdered substance
poisoned her

Invisible man
Her eyes got
Smoked like
Poison Ivy
In the Army now
Please too much
Attention of green
Arabian in the Nile
Miles and miles
Navy to be seen
He was colored blind
Different eye
Brown in one and blue
Something hatched

Matchmaker  Ghost rider
Fiddler on the roof
We need a story writer
Like a horse
without a hoof
To neigh the right
stuff

I Sir "Infinitely" so
"Existentially"
Remarkably
Divinely
Ghostwriter
Her words were
blank
She is so genuine
Every other day
He was mine
The quiet man
Super shy
Another try
Valentine's day +*

Writing but not seeing
I love you until this day
Quiescently being forced
he entered emerged
I love you let's get
engaged
Beg your pardon
was not her
To be loved so sorry to be
changed
Like a stale piece

Her niece vintage
furniture more love
and peace
Quietly operation
tugged
Someone got flagged
That blind man
faced
And looked into
the  quiet man
On someone's 
body
The smells
like Moms
perfume her
exact tune
New Jersey Patch reader
"The Catcher in the Rye"
To weird the movie
Carrie
School can be strange
A bucket list of water
down your head
She walked

The Quiet man lips
No small talk
Ghost post bed
Not even one star
could be heard
The gas lamp
she tripped
Out of sight

She saw a face not to
be described

So inhibited like
endangered
species

The invisible man
loved her
But got his
vengeance on
anyone
that was too near her
People wanted so
much to
be her
Her force
indescribable

When someone was
clear to see
Extremely well visible
she didn't care to
know them

Her nose on the tip
baking with flour
Ghostly the hostess
of the most
But feeling his
energy the invisible
the man was
courting her so challenging

New flame "Procreating"

Hemming her long skirt
Her diary innocence
Being on her side
but scheming
Disguise home staging
From the ridiculous to the
subline

Her address
Send forget me knots
street
Only blind
people are the kind
you want to find

SOS  surrender or out
The other S Soulmate
Ghost
Hailed the Mary
The Quiet Man
John Wayne

The laundromat
Mack the knife
Invisible man
Inked his whole life
Waynes world
Born to be wild

The other man
Hit the metal
heavy music
fan
Drenched so humid
He was the Murad

Triangle mess
Shopping at London
Harrods
Let's hear it for
the girls or ((Gods))
The magical channeling
TV on the blink
Went right on his computer
All the quiet man linked

He finger waved by the world
Guinness drinking Heineken
beer
The ghost rider
Got grilled called upon
By Ron
College kid playing
Rugby
The good bad and
the Ugly
Clint Eastwood
stretched them out
like Gumby
Western gunshot slinger
He couldn't see the
Ghost rider
the
blank stares
Perky Rabbit Hares
All the negatives got
burned
Exorcist's heads twist
and shout eyes healed
about

Climbing the Jacks
of the shinning
Nowhere in the beauty of
Her heart gleaming

Took a blindfold call felt
somewhere but where?
But I couldn't see blinded
by stars
Over the rainbow, the skies
weren't blue
Being stalked by
someone you know

By the greater impossible
love
To be silent like she was
invisible
So naive at time feeble

Without an honorable
love of fee
Gone with the winding
shopping spree
Disworthy and sneaky
but for being
who or answers
Doctor Who?
Invisible man what
could he do

He was so flavorful
well balanced
strong nursed her well
and sturdy
Quiet man thinking in his
beloved study

She was no goodie
magical shoes
The Ghostwriter
left invisible
clues
More Quiet time
Lemonade time affair of a
Ghost man
Like Hannah and her sisters
Woody if he could
But he is a **** good writer
The Movies of NewYork
I am proud to say
I come from
Brooklyn NY

If lips could talk
pouty
Sensing something but why?
Hans Christian Anderson
Quiet man playing softly but
Killing me easily through the
Blind sighted window

The widows
War Veterans
True Hero My dad
World War 2
Wifes lies and fibs
Quiet leads to invisible
Heller Keller was so
fortunate
Like Fate, she was
the real
Mccoy, she could light
anyone's smile
with joy
The barbecue next season
So many years to reason
More gun control
Be more visible to others
Mothers and brothers
Have a heart of soul


Only the strong keep the
  fight
Just keep on trucking
Grill them show them
What you could write
Perhaps it's cool to be the
Ghostwriter
Not everyone likes
To see the clear picture
What is really taken

So what if people cannot read us
Somehow we are all blind that's
OK its a miracle how other people
Can make it the beautiful day


Of the next groundhog day
He was loving to be invisible
He wanted to keep it that way
So deep set her eyes
to die
Somehow talk could be cheap
And the shepherd of love loads

of sheep, silence is the best sleep

All in someones head so lovingly deep

Invisible but remarkable to be the person
you want to be or let's really look closer
it's not always rosier.

The day on a high
reaches the peak
over the pyramid.
Shrouded in twilight
now tucked in light
pushes the envelope.
The whole panache of stars
came out in the pitch dark.
The North Star is on the way
oh do me a favour
I will tell you why.

Veil the angle of dawn
in the black shades of the night.
There are dark caves
even inside the pyramid
scientists, trained eyes
yet to tread on that way.

Put on it only an instance of your kohl
the daylight is already a burnt mole.
Light in the wrap in the night
your muslin veiled silken moonlight
is enough to find the tuberose’s earth.

If the tucked away sun crops up
once again over the morning’s rose petals.
Again it will dive deep into the angle
after an angle in the black hole of the night.
A far cry from the glowing firefly
eyeing blindfolded behind the moon
perfectly beyond every looking star.
Until the master arts in silk black finds the true pencil
not in visualising but catching the views of the sunrise
through the lens of the rose pollens’ kohl-eyes.

Not for the risque factor, only for the simple fact that
I only want you inside one single part of me
and it's sure as hell not my heart.

Don't look me in the eyes.
Don't look me in the eyes.

Bloomed upon a star!
The setting sun sliding far
into the twilight pool
captured the picture!

Eye on the bumblebee!
That was first to bask in the sun
thinking that it dove to the length
into the shades of the midday rose.
There it's silhouette gets caught
is half-lit on the bank
of the milky way brook.

Shades of blue put
in the mix an inky shadow.
Oh, what’s in an unseen hue?
The sprawling black night puts
a veil on the day on every eyeball.  
Guess what it’s anyone's guess!
Even the leading light of the day
the sun shuffles an acre of the night
blindfolded down the full moon!

Every time I touch a controller
I set a new highscore
I said a new highscore.
Look out behind you, *******.
I capped that ***;
You should've watched your back.
Now I got an L-shaped block
Watch as I drop it in that L-shaped slot.
Haters gotta throw the blue turtle shell,
Because they can't keep their kart on Rainbow Road.
Donkey's going to throw some barrels at me;
Don't worry princess, watch me jump.
I promise I won't get hit, not even once.
Hey there champ look right here;
I just stuck a plas grenade
On you right ear.
Lucky shot? So you say.
Still watching me tea-bag you
From the grave.
Pilot Wings, Punch-Out, Mario
Madden, Sonic or GTA
It doesn't really matter
The number of pixels we play.
D-Pad or joystick,
Night or day,
It doesn't really matter how you play,
Put me on tron I'll blow you away.
Turtles in Time:
You take that next slice.
Even blindfolded your no match
For my SuperScope.
Tony Hawk, what a joke!
In Pacman or Galaga in space
Even with the Kunami Code
You've got no hope.
So the next time you hear
Scorpion yell "Get over here!"
Have no fear
A Sonic Boom will soon be there.
Busting out Atari's Pong?
Noob, I'll pwn you
One-thousand to none.
Hell, not even Parapa the Rappa
Can touch my rhymes.
Read those initials
That score is mine.
I said read those initials;
That score is mine.