The woods ...

... where the snowstorm blows

......where the rain is sudden

...........where the trees have arms that span in and ****** at life

..............where the mists sprinkle and move

...................where the owl sat as a watchman as we settled beneath the stars

........................where the breeze mumbles tribal mantras

.............................where the greenery conceals a huge number of sins

................................where the animals be-companion solitary **** Sapiens

...............where the way twists up and into and over and liberates the lost


I've seen the woods…

… ..and I sit alone

… .… and the quiet is all

… and the ears hear just the leaves falling

… and the morning light comes in streams

… ..and the undergrowth scents of ages past

… ..and the creek sings a despairing song

… and the hawk leaves a shadow upon our tangled dreams

… .… and the growths pay respect to the cycle of life

… and blooms come into bud

… ..and I've felt every one of its favors… and felt its rot


I am the backwoods…

… .it inhales underneath my skin – whispering breeze

… .… it races through my veins – prospering waterway

… .… it houses the owl – isolated home

… ..it whispers to the towns – lost heritage

… ..… it develops contorted roots from the dirt of my yearning - verdant rot

… ..it discovers life inside my folds – rising sapling

… it spreads an overhang over my casing – memory's shadow

… .it mumbles to the hearkening ear – achieving bark

… I've felt the excursion inside its ignored heart … it offers elegance to the lost

I searched for God among the Christians and on the Cross and therein I found Him not.

I went into the ancient temples of idolatry; no trace of Him was there.

I entered the mountain cave of Hira and then went as far as Qandhar but God I found not.

With set purpose I fared to the summit of Mount Caucasus and found there only 'anqa's habitation.

Then I directed my search to the Kaaba, the resort of old and young; God was not there even.

Turning to philosophy I inquired about him from ibn Sina but found Him not within his range.

I fared then to the scene of the Prophet's experience of a great divine manifestation only a "two bow-lengths' distance from him" but God was not there even in that exalted court.

Finally, I looked into my own heart and there I saw Him; He was nowhere else.
But
In my heart .

Writer :

Jalaludin rumi

Te pidieron permiso para existir?
O sin saberlo se te fue otorgado.
Descubrimos belleza y encontramos horrores,
aprendimos a ser humanos.

Siempre entre alegría y dolor
sin poder nunca evitarlo.
Y si tanto tengo que sufrir?
No es menor ni empezarlo?

Dar vida y su creación.
El orgullo de un dios amargo.
Que egoísta hay que ser
para crear un ser vivo y al mundo atarlo.

Si tras sufrir acabara por morir...
No es mejor ni evitarlo?
Y para salvarnos a todos
parar la rueda y el ciclo terminarlo.

Todos juntos silenciosos hermanos
bajo las estrellas cogernos de la mano
Y como ellas, uno a uno apagarnos
Y en armonía a nuestro destino llegamos.

Upon their little monsterous Approach
The Aliens did to assimilate, do tell
The hearts, minds they tried to encroach
Our Spirit's they'd rather be in Hell
So the day goes without saying debauchery
The Alien Queen's a ****** once more
They're all reborn from their hatchery
To once again spread their seed on the floor

No books in my shelves.
No songs in my head.
No hearts in my heart.

There are not enough drugs for the pressure to ease.
The struggle to feel baby, nothing can release me.
Highs always come crashing down.
Every bridge burns to the ground.

A chest with no toys.
A board with no pieces.
You tore me to pieces.
Stealing all my peace.

Hurricane winds and messy minds.
My thighs around your waist, nothing can ease me.
Night loving never seems to ease me.

I am a ghost of who I'm not.
Just a person filling this slot.
Emotionless robot bracing for a fall.

All just leading to no healing.
Wrapped around your heart.
I am just another knot you cut off.

Dropping to the floor.
The fire burned me.
There is no fight left in me.

Nothing I can do to make it right.
Take my armor and, put my sword right through me.
Leave me to die, there's nothing good left in me.

I'm sorry but, I'm leaving me.
Put a peace sign up.
Nothing can come from me.

Standing at the pantry
As another year flies by
I take out the same candles
I blew out this time last July

To celebrate your birthday
Another one you've missed
Maybe celebrate is to strong a word
When the death of you brought it all to this

I always bake your favorite cake
Store bought just won't do
You always said you liked the icing best
So I add an extra spoonful or two

The same number of candles from last year
As your years are put on hold
One thing about you not being here
Is you never do grow old

When the party's over
Candles burned a little further than before
I take them off with a lump in my throat
And close back the pantry door

In the sandy dunes of words
And the sparkling foams of light
He riots as a snake would do
With his forked tongue - 'tween the Unlet-
Tered stones of a sunny graveyard.

© LazharBouazzi  (14 October, 2017)