Paris;this April sunset completely utters
utters serenely silently a cathedral

before whose upward lean magnificent face
the streets turn young with rain,

spiral acres of bloated rose
coiled within cobalt miles of sky
yield to and heed
the mauve
               of twilight(who slenderly descends,
daintily carrying in her eyes the dangerous first stars)
people move love hurry in a gently

arriving gloom and
see!(the new moon
fills abruptly with sudden silver
these torn pockets of lame and begging colour)while
there and here the lithe indolent *******
Night,argues

with certain houses

that's it again
the artistry of the curling hell
the mark of what was destroyed
and for some reason used as a metaphor for life
I look in the mirror and I see long, lean, noble
like a greek god, or goddess, someone gender ambiguous
with hair framing my face and jawlines ever reaching up
my body is beautiful and I shouldn't destroy it
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
like whitman,
there is this strange dark attraction to
standing somewhere leaning against the wall
with my hood up as I watch the stars become clouded
and that warm friendly scent fills my clothes where no one wants to go
it's like a forest, a forest of embraces and thistles
something tragic and suave and slenderly beautiful
the workers in the yard light up daily
just like my sister when she's hanging out
always happy
or my grandfather on his patio with the parrot on his shoulder.
he lets her drink coffee sometimes,
and lets me drink in the air of his breath mingled with ash always.
I am the rolled tobacco, just ready to be lit, inhaled, and blown away
flammable, quick to go,
filtered, my body a slim cylinder,
the heat at the end catching the eye of children
I want to be united with that which I personify,
unhealthy, but **** cool looking.
It wouldn't surprise anyone-
where there's smoke, there's fire, they say;
maybe that's why I've always wanted a cigarette.

find me not for i am past
the promise of your heart
hear me not when silence does
dig our nights apart

trust me not when i do swear
upon a tranquil light
sing into the wilderness
yearn your tender sight

seek a snowy yesterday
to memories resign
as the ocean's secret vain
fathomlessly lie

slenderly ignore the taste
of penitence awhile
bury my brazen shallow songs
all up in tearing skies

if blowing blooms of dust desire
veil vermins fleetingly
play and pose as puppet hands
hunt and yet haunted be

for the sake of love suspire
swig in a morning dream
until your soul's a raging fire
please stop loving me

Sulim said, ‘’the moon rises on the sky like a child.’’
''The jeweler is going to come tomorrow to
Bring me jewels for those wanting their life to be styled.
Although I can't sell them, I want all her dreams come true, ''


Frederick said. She replied, ''I can't wait to choose them.''
''They are expensive, and it's hard to find customers.''
Sam said, ’’ increase the price when two eyes light on a gem.''
''I have to deal with the coast-men, who are expert smugglers.''

'' 'Twas another world, when jewelry meant a business.
I had to wear a lapel clip to be fully dressed.''
Sam said, ''to the jewelry theft, I'm an eye witness.''
''To protect this ship from pirates, I'll do my best.''

He kissed her, '' you're the most important jewel for me.''
She touched her womb, ''this fetus is the most important.''
''And I hope he will become what I want him to be.
I know he feels, even his feeling is quite dormant.’’

(After a few seconds of thinking, Frederick continued to talk with her.)


''Are you sure it's a boy? '' ''I am absolutely sure.
Moreover, he will be like his dad.'' The man held her
Into his arms, '' I'm strong enough this fate to endure.
Is he as beautiful as me? '' He played with her hair.

Dreamy and meditative, Geraldine told him,
''He's already a sailor in my womb.'' He laughed.
''Son, I want you to hit her a little in a gym.''
She exclaimed, ''he moved.'' ''He’s maestro at this craft.''

(Early in the morning, Frederick and Geraldine woke up. They used to sleep in the same bed, although she was pregnant.
She had to prepare the breakfast for the sailors, and he had to go to the nautical bridge to take back the control of the ship.)

''You'll stay at Lisbon for a few years because the child
Must grow up enough to be taken with us on the ship.''
''I do not let you roaming through the freedom and the wild.''
''I don't go, I stay with you, '' he whispered lip to lip.

''Are you afraid of losing me? He asked tenderly.
''I'm afraid that something bad is going to happen.''
''With five belly dancers around fashion'd slenderly? ''
''Imagine this! You're going to be a real captain! ''

He laughed. She gave him a pat on the back with her cushion.
''Do you see those five lateen sails? They dance in the storm.''
He wanted to make love with her, but she kept on pushing.
He immobilized her screaming ''Love me to keep me warm! ''

Ismail knocked on the door and told Frederick that the jeweler was on the ship.

(to be continued...)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

my almost body does
through nearly hands which
deep reeds–the naked bottoms of rivers;

wide spans eagerly of ***
wist twisting
the curv'd blade
of their
hot in June mouth's
(legs arms)

occaissionly
sweating
swept in
the resin
of warm rain;

(a universe is here between
the hairless bulb of every fertile's
crescent )

a dangerous slenderly perhaps
of open lips
reeling furiously
with starlight

(outside summer is a hot blab
on the pavement can be heard
the clip-clap of a horse goes
lathered in tremendous dew)

a crocus riding
the small spring hour
of a lady

in tooo many clothes

the world fits most easily in rain between
the close thighs of light
eking just slenderly

one ephemeral rill of ****
penetrating
to eagerly spill
dawn.

                 (the though world
                   in rain fits just
                   in just the loose tenseness
                   of muscle unbounding
                   from bone, wide
                   )with
                    a sliver
                                of
                            neat

                     ssenlriG

Chisel your memory
To my plates.
Mind falling emery
Such is fate’s.

Mindlessly picturing
As by age.
Beauty quivering
Turning page.

Knuckles so painfully
Bending out
Tears fall gainfully
Hope’s sparse sprout.

Image so tenderly
Filling thought.
Eyesight so slenderly
Catching aught.

Breathing intake shallow
Lung fill work.
Every moment hallow
Even murk.

Approaching end rapid
Time so scant.
Experience vapid,
So much can’t.

But you are there,
In the echoes.
You are there.
Lovely,
Goodbye.

some barely rosebud
tenderly just
open
slenderly

bobbling
aloft
skinny skinny skinny
stem and

a pink
sliver of
petals
bunch easily
at

the lips
of its,

(hands go around
and: Pluck            )

i feel not myself the rain or a trees outside the wind or in the dark a bit (slenderly) where.

rose alone, cannot grow.
my hand on your hand,
the twilight of this
inner whirlwind.
palm brushing off the dust
of a dream,
your tear on my cheek
slenderly needing all of my rivers,
is your reflection,
my tender night,
      rose alone cannot grow.

i watch the tiny hands of rain
fritter back to your breast.
i witness everything seek its
asylum, in your arms, where
no love breaks, only sings,
laughs atremble,
  and i see all the roses, alone yet together
in all-consuming silence, needing
  your transmissible voice to
make resonant, the day or
    the bend on our roads,
like saltwater, like complaisant
  air meaning only one word
through all the roses that
   spring in the field
of the ephemera: your
too sudden image claiming
no sound yet all of my language.

Each step
precariously maken
Every turn
variously taken

Each thought
erratically selected
Every emotion
dramatically projected

Each piece
tenderly created
Every crease
slenderly sated

My good girl.

Shining brown hair with a hint of chestnut
Straight and silky and a sharp cut fringe
Sometimes in black beribboned plaits
Or two bunches showing your ears.
An elfin face cupped in my hands
Slenderly graceful you are still
You are my good girl.

Embracing life joyfully, you smiled
Through days of schoolwork
Touching the world with sunshine
Making all seem bright and clear,
Loving daughter, my first of three
You came to start our family
This is my good girl.

And yet you are many things
Other than my good girl.
You mind an encyclopaedia of answers,
Your heart a lover of nature,
A social activists,
You crochet beautiful blankets
Teach and make ceramic pots
And love to curl up with a book.

Love and thank you My Katie .
From Mum ***

Young and driven
Not by bus but by golden God given beauty
****** is what society seeks in their creativity
Harsh words dastardly spitted on their face
Never give up dear model
Your beauty showcases the art of stitched cloth on cam
Your black Zambian silky skin drives viewer's attention
Your slenderly soft hips perfectly fit outfits
Never give up dear model
Wipe your tears and face your fears
For discrimination will never end
Bend and pretend you never heard
Never give up dear model
Jubilantly prance with confidence
Even if they obloquy obnoxiously
Don't run,turn "say the race has just begun