But the muse of my poems will lighten up issues,
And like the church bells around you to remind you of the time.
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I am like an ordinary passerby on your love,
Because i have something special for you.
He acted like a mad man and,
So Bronson came in to give me the clue because,He is my lover and i want him to be beside me.
How can i prove it to you?
I am in love with you and i want you to know.That’s how love should be my dream lover,That’s how love should go my sweet one,To keep us always on the tracks;Like Romeo and Juliet.Should i approach you directly for love?Because i can’t sleep at night;I am in love with you.Should i buy you presents?Oh…
Both must be taught by the laws,
Or through adoption,But the ultimate responsibilities for their well being is love!Because we are the only ones on this earth and,We need to do the right thing always.
Dice, nice, vice, mice, rice, price;
But i am the eyes to the blind and the feet to the lame,For my steps are bathed with the cream of love.Oh Abdala my love!My lips are like the honeycomb;So do not spend the night in the open square!For my virgin daughter is home at last,And like the chronicles of your mind before.
The whole house was filled with the fragrance of the ointment,
And like a man riding a red horse;So sit beside me and lean on my breasts.
hands disappearing
into hands…
we leaves the sites
of graves untended,
walking towards life,
with both grief and joy!
the smoke still lingers,
and the smell of wet ashes.
but we are more,
we choose to be more!
faces long lost
gather purpose, and names,
as blood becomes,
our peace and our striving!
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burning brush out back,
when the pile got lowi started throwing in,memories, feelings, and dreams.the fire blazed high,but just for a moment…then died to embers,steady and pulsing…and so does time to the heart!the flame that gasps for air,strangled by its own ardor…till the outer body burns,what’s left is pure fuel…warming the feet of God!
title get you?
have enough to eat?does he/she have heat?is he fixing to be evicted?is he lonely? hurting?have you asked?have you spoken to him?do you know his/her name?do you care?
quit banging the drums of war!
a means of economic survival…much less profitable….human lives mean nothing!freedom and democracyare a hoax… a drugadministered through thelate night tv news….we’re not trying to liberate anyone,it’s all profit and loss….profit to the War Machine…loss… of lives, any sense of moralityand/or human decency.it’s easy to sell….just tell the people they’reour enemies… that they’reout to get us.you…
do I believe…
a perfected human being,letting go of selfand all grasping…one with the truenature of living…compassionate?yes…. you cannot be onewith all that’s around youwithout living compassion!allowing questions,shining the light,but the path isyour own!
what if you woke up,
that the old, foul smelling,dirty clothes, unshavenwino in the parking lot,trying to bum a couple bucks…was God?how would that changethe way you look at things?well… He is!
there’s more than we allow.beneath the grain, born in the pain,the reality of now.Jesus saves, yet we dig the graves,for the poor and downtrodden.not much loss, they pay the cost,the beaten and forgotten!my religion is compassion.swords to plowshares slowly fashioned.you can be what you imagine….unconditional, true passion!
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merely skin tints!
Americans, and Middle
Eastern people,
worship…
not different gods,
but different understandings
of the same god!
and common people,
all around the world,
have worked too long,
for too little,
are tired of being numbers,
numbers without faces!
tired on being enslaved,
being treated as possessions….
for they have faces!
faces with hearts,
hearts with spirits,
spirits made of flesh!
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hard calloused old hands,
feet beaten and worn,old tired eyes that still twinkle.i love the working class.am more at homewith truckers, farmers,and factory workers,than politicians and priests.the lives built brick by brick,silent years of sacrifice.hard lines of faith and worry,and moments of gentle caring.the hand extended,the heart that’s honest.the love of passion,and blowing off steam.the cook pot, and the…
i follow…
the footpath of the sparrow,walking on airto infinity’s arms.the rustle of the skirt,bare feet on the floor.the hum of the pot,simmering on the stove.the cry of the spider’s web,falling ever so slowly…from its home in the corner,safe from the broom.the lick of the dog’s tongue,both raw and gentle.the snail trail of the beadof sweat on…
it is in silence
sounds as other than noise!it is in bondagethat we identify freedomas more than a dream.it is in lonlinessthat we identify loveas both the path and the journey.it is in angerthat we identify forgivenessas the release.it is in despairthat we identify hopeas one foot after the other.it is in deaththat we identify lifeand give it meaning!
no, not yet! take my hand, let us
mountains seem closer, the treeswhisper and wait. for the nightbrings its own sounds, a new anddeeper closeness, breaking downthe barriers of the need for concepts.open your hands, close your eyes, listen,then let go! of every image you haveof self, of want, of need… the birdleaves the nest and never looks back,no longer clinging to a…
you cannot tell me
when you would take awaymy thoughts, my desires,take away my chanceto speak out, to stand up….when you would take awaythe words i write,the songs i sing….the very dreams i dream!you cannot tell methat we are free….when i cant afford your freedom.when by my choiceto be who i ami am judged,and found unworthy!you cannot tell methat…
that which you throw away,
to be burned in petroleum fires….just missing the mouthsof your shadowy conscience,the faces staring backfrom your mirror,the hands that reach outfrom the graveyards of your soul….mouths whisperingthe name of God!