Nor thou, Habib, nor I are glad,
when rosy limbs and sweat entwine;
But rapture drowns the sense and self,
the wine the drawer of the wine,

And Him that planted first the grape-
o podex, in thy vault there dwells
A charm to make the member mad,
And shake the marrow of the spine.

O member, in thy stubborn strength
a power avails on podex-sense
To boil the blood in breast and brain;
shudder the nreves incarnadine!

From me thou drawest pearly drink -
and in its pourings both are drunk.
The Iman drives forth the drunken man
from out the marble prayer-shrine.

Blue Mushtari strove with red Mirrikh
which should be master of the night-
But where is Mushtari, where Mirrikh
when in the sky the sun doth shine?

Now El Qahar to Hazif gives
the worship unto poets due : -
But songs are nought and Music all;
what poet music may define?

Allah's the atheist! he owns
no Allah. Sneer, thou dullard churl!
The Sufi worships not, but drinks,
being himself the all-divine.

Come, my Habib, the roses blush,
the waters gleam, the bulbul sings -
To pierce thy podex El Quahar's
urgent and and imminent design!

I do love
But it ain't quite
like the Discovery Channel!!!

I want so much more than
the collective desire of Park Avenues

I believe like,

With exactly no doubt
like zero are the hours
which can never count
upon the seamlessness
of my perceptions

I do but I don't
I am and therefor not

I talk in mirrored tongues
I observe in uncanny detail

Micro and macro all a flow
overly ever rushing torrents
moving galaxies about

Pouring in
more rushes out

You can picture it
over the mighty edges of
and rushing to, fro and about
every swirling an obstacle stout

Though such knows not
one another in such ways
inseparable upon one journey

As She manifests from her he, Self
He's giving for he gets the She of,

An ever persuasive passionate,

Play... .. .

Greater than the dreams

We know of love yet
Shy to conceive

They, their passion
.........
  .....
   ...
    "
    '
We inwardly receive

Those torrential lovers
pourings do spillover
and on and over
and rush upwards
ah ever more easily!!!

Vast sensualities
******* rhythms
of this a, Our universe
in micro exotic intoxicating
allure, irresistibly entwining
the smallest tastes and teases
of songbirds loving symphonies

As butterfly and a bee in the ever
sweet scents of psychedelic sighting
wavings in ever inviting ever ripening
ever flows of heavens manna sweets, but
sours the way short where some say sinners
ought never see or be, though such is silliness see,

For such shy glimpses of what is less than momentary
which is not countable, when our greatnesses will carry on
beyond our redemptions of what only we shall see clearly so
simply, one day twas the dark night of a soul, here blasphemed
about the sacredness of all ever evident being so close found fondly,

Sweetly, though lost in those ever aching wishes of our journeying together

Would death be ****** abandonment at all a freaky thing unconceived
dark night of the great light conceived viewed in our ever grace and beauty
but she lets you feel her he's and all the glory, all the glory an unrealized being
in all our collectiveness has not yet seen but in the depths of where it's consider dark
for simple decisions we all have and must have made to function here, there

and at all,
at once...

No time, no space, no EMC squared's
yet in Newtonian fashion the soul spirit remains
carries on in infinite motion and motions of our choosings
and for better and worse we do all about the same for we
were never thrilled about all the separation we discovered
in reluctance and or in blessed joys of great companies
of loving hearts, eyes, ears, arms with tender loving
caring hands of nurture enough twas enough for
you are still here now and those who have not
have forgiven all other misguidance eagerly
when it is easily found tis only our own
choice to be and set free freely

And I can want any petty desire too
and put myself up for adoption to,

The petting zoo
and you...

For hell yeah I want to be here
all the way and with you
my wayfarers

I Do...

do do dee da da
oo la la and ma mama

childs all of such grace
we oft just call gods

And greater love seen
dispensed philosophically
by self proclaimed atheism's

Denialism can rather be the truth
of atheism, self pitying so deeply
resenting the here now for some
overly wishful thinkings and
of mournful emotionalism's
about the 'it just ain't fairs'

Beware they will take you
to their wheres, wearing
their wares of self hate
while glossfully
painting in
glitterings
of fools
gold

Feign not thou
we are co conspirators
already decidedly agreed
agreeably dancing on the sharp
end of one pointed pin, hand holding

But remember if we were ever shaken
off of binding bonds ever closefully as
the chasms of divergences really are

We still ever dance ever lightly on
the everly fine poignancy of pin

And the illusion of being
garden casted for some
shamefully blameful
denials of the snakes
sly fashion to even
ones need of feed

And or wither from
the long and short
of journey with
the ever's of

here now...

Paradise
Perfectly

Paradoxically

In our
every
way

So I am
in great hunger
greater thirst firstly

For the one great illusion
desert stricken for not seeing
the forest of paradise for every
tree and every grace of all possibility

Without such would come from impossibility*

Once Again...

Like block shaped wheels our lives stumble at the chapters we write
Corners seem dark and teeming with doubt,
alleyways call in echoes of our name,
as if tempting us to crawl when we cannot walk

                “Fear begins the parade at our fragile hearts”

Shades are drawn and slotted with eyes watching,
voices ring the halls of the buildings looming large,
rumors of pointed fingers find our ears in colander fashion,
dripping fear at our feet

                “Waves conduct sound, crashing vividly as we hear”

We cry,
hoping these tears will somehow wash the pain,
fill the gutters and move out to sea,
casting waves upon unsuspecting shores

                “Wishes…more waste than want…at least of these eyes”

When of the shadows a touch,
softly at first, then strong upon our shoulders fall…
comfort leaps to our hearts in sing song praise,
wishes become goals and finish line adventures

                “What is this light, soft yet sure, found within”

We are not alone, darkness hints at light
and butterflies fill our air with prism’d colors and soft breezes
collecting on our damp cheeks and drying the aftermath
of our understanding of reality

                “Dreams of these nightmares fade into happiness”

We find footprints in the dirt…two which are not our own,
closely, yet affectionately following our way and bringing direction
to our dreams, yet the nightmares still flourish
but we do not feel so alone

                “Fences built may keep us in yet… may keep us out”

For this hand, from a distance,
climbing mountains and fording rivers
leads our hearts to the safety of love just beyond the bricked wall,
the ivy covered monolith, the chain link disaster
which once stood locked

                “Finding that a breath may exhale peace…again”

Now stands open of the arbor of hibiscus
blooms and teapot pourings fore our eyes…open and hopeful of the coming truth
once lost beyond our dreams…and we breathe
for it feels right to breathe while standing in the darkness…not alone

Not alone


Like block shaped wheels our lives stumble at the chapters we write
Corners seem dark and teeming with doubt,
alleyways call in echoes of our name,
as if tempting us to crawl when we cannot walk

                “Fear begins the parade at our fragile hearts”

Shades are drawn and slotted with eyes watching,
voices ring the halls of the buildings looming large,
rumors of pointed fingers find our ears in colander fashion,
dripping fear at our feet

                “Waves conduct sound, crashing vividly as we hear”

We cry,
hoping these tears will somehow wash the pain,
fill the gutters and move out to sea,
casting waves upon unsuspecting shores

                “Wishes…more waste than want…at least of these eyes”

When of the shadows a touch,
softly at first, then strong upon our shoulders fall…
comfort leaps to our hearts in sing song praise,
wishes become goals and finish line adventures

                “What is this light, soft yet sure, found within”

We are not alone, darkness hints at light
and butterflies fill our air with prism’d colors and soft breezes
collecting on our damp cheeks and drying the aftermath
of our understanding of reality

                “Dreams of these nightmares fade into happiness”

We find footprints in the dirt…two which are not our own,
closely, yet affectionately following our way and bringing direction
to our dreams, yet the nightmares still flourish
but we do not feel so alone

                “Fences built may keep us in yet… may keep us out”

For this hand, from a distance,
climbing mountains and fording rivers
leads our hearts to the safety of love just beyond the bricked wall,
the ivy covered monolith, the chain link disaster
which once stood locked

                “Finding that a breath may exhale peace…again”

Now stands open of the arbor of hibiscus
blooms and teapot pourings fore our eyes…open and hopeful of the coming truth
once lost beyond our dreams…and we breathe
for it feels right to breathe while standing in the darkness…not alone

****, I miss this place!

the words revolve around in my head unable to get out.

cloisters of verses cling begging for a home under a title

and all I can do is shush them into an untimely death in a grave unmarked they dissapear.

my head aches for my heart ,my heart aches for my soul,  my soul aches for you.

a quiet discomfort lays its shadow over me

and I many times silenced by my avid and monotonous duty and honour bound work ethic

there are too many good deeds to unravel the twisted life ive lived.

there are too many costs to add up the total devastation

a stagnant pool of I dont give afucks everywhere I turn,

but not here. here there is always a bite of soul

a latching of comeraderie

and of physical expectations muted.

here is only the minds and hearts service

here is the solice of cool breezes on suffocatingly hot and dry days

a sunny patch on a drenched waterlogged flashing thunderous landscape

but I cant come when I want most.

and such is poetry among friends and by its nature

such pourings of colourful and transparent globual beauty reflecting a mirriad of soul thoughts and heart empassionings

we are all somewhat rendered offended when our offerings are not burnt in offerings of appreciation

to flutter like white ashes to the sky and land delicately on some haphazzard surface till oblivion.

but it is the nature of life that not all can be taken or absorbed or experienced there will be things missed if not superficially then on the deeper levels.

and so I miss this place when I can not come.

when my hands are tied to other pixels and other machanical combombulationary works.

I am simply a slave of my own doing.

captured by what i brought to life

ever distracted by globules of refracted light and codes of beings whom I find such incredible joy

that I can never repay or inspire as much!

hugss SS

I miss the **** out of you all xo

I have stroked my way
through great lengths
And currents    
Of uncertainty    
    
Come ripple    
Come shoot  
And it seems    
In this moment    
I did not miss  
    
It's pull  
Through doubt  
Through once devastating    
Remorse  
That had grabbed my ankles  
To tug me under  
    
To see my face    
In airless whisper  
Bubbles of scream    
I could not muster    
Rise  
And rise slowly    
And swallow into it  
    
Hollow panic    
I could not choke    
But only beg for wind  
Until I surfaced    
To the welcoming sun    
And beloved movement  
    
To float into    
Destination    
Would have been lovely  
To ride Christ like    
Down blue waters    
Seems choice    
However unattainable    
    
I can only imagine  
Caressing the ease and cool    
With fingers that did not curl    
With desperation  
    
But that was not my case  
Was not my stream    
Was not my river    
    
I imagine Congo bends  
And U shaped turns    
Of ambiguity and great confusion  
Or the dense and uncharted    
Regions of the Amazon    
And like minded    
Extreme    
Highly unpredictable    
Pourings  
    
And in them I would recognise    
My journey  
And feel kinship    
And great pride    
In spite of the struggle  
And uneven pace of my dig  
    
For every stroke has taken me    
to where I am  
And away from where I've been
  
I let the residuals  
Drip down my thigh
I finger them from my hair
And am reminded  
Of the hard motion  
And deep waters that cling
  
I sigh and watch them  
fall from my skin
And direct my gaze
And satisfaction  
Up and towards the sky

can you kiss my fat like it’s something made of marble? can you brush my hair as if a Rembrandt **** you secretly adore?
may you fetishize the simple way I blink my eyes: do you like to the way my giggle echoes throughout your body? may you watch me whilst I dance around you moody, will you sit on a chair and watch me with your admirable eyes? let me straddle you and rub your beard and take off your shirt, until I wring it around your neck and force your eyes to follow me: and peeled on me they’ll be until we’ve finished our sublime relief: I bend over the mattress,

the table, the hill — whatever: you press your knee into my buttocks, and a slap from your hand rests on my cheek: pleasure and pain and I almost wish you had me on a chain for you, I’d be on a chain for you: extreme and dusty pink your cheeks turn from this hazy eve, and not to be so gloomy and painful yet the sun has yet to eat the morning clouds and all evening begun the sky to change: the shade it fades, slight pourings and droppings I hear, it’s like pennies falling into a paper cup — are you aware of this sound, my love? and then, then do you also, too, hear the paper? oh yes, the paper, can you, may you feel me? may I feel you — and you know I don’t have to ask, and I know you know I don’t have to ask, yet I do and I know through your mind you think we’re in the sky, because you watch me so airily, and then you move like mist: through a tree line, and your the light that filters through — or really, you are the filter : and I applaud you and everything about you because I am the thing you desire: how may I stir your passion? do I really need to ask? my mouth between your legs and I hum your name, “Daddy”, I think this is all I must do— rest my breast between your manhood, rest my breast upon your lips, **** and twirl and tease and lick: drink me, you’ve gently held my Soul: I thank the Gods who’ve blessed me to be deep inside you: I wonder what you are dreaming about now?
you lay upon the gilde that wreathes inside me, a beauty surmounted: you’re so painterly: the bridge of your nose, the glitter in your eyes: the crows feet, the wicked way I know— relinquish all your regality inside me: being it out, I’ll bring it out from inside you(what is it?)— your being, your raw and natural being: yes, yes, I’ll bring it out and many more things you never knew you were:

intensity, passion, and controlling: some major key-tones that we flavor with: spices spill over a mess has been made deep inside you, you *** all over me I accept you

Roses are red, Violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet, perhaps so are you.
The roses are wiltes, the vilets now dead.
The sugars bowl's empty, your wrists stained red.
The sun isn't shining, the sky's not clear.
There is no silver lining, because you're no longer here.
Rain keeps pourings, with no end in sight.
You're lying there frozen, too far from the light.
Your beauty was unreal, your smile was the sun.
But time can't be turned, your actions undone.
The words that you wrote, that only I read.
"I love you so much. Please don't cry when I'm dead"
A bond we formed, a love that ran deep.
A pain that we shared, a friend I could keep.
I wanted to hold you, wipe the tears from your eyes.
Been there the moment you said your goodbyes.
I want to forget, but most times I don't.
I want to let go, but I know that I won't.
Tears on my face, memories in my head.
The roses have wilted, The violets are dead