I
Ancestral Houses
SURELY among a rich man s flowering lawns,
Amid the rustle of his planted hills,
Life overflows without ambitious pains;
And rains down life until the basin spills,
And mounts more dizzy high the more it rains
As though to choose whatever shape it wills
And never stoop to a mechanical
Or servile shape, at others' beck and call.
......
We believe in Marxfreudanddarwin.
We believe everything is OK
as long as you don't hurt anyone,
to the best of your definition of hurt,
and to the best of your knowledge.
We believe in sex before during
and after marriage.
We believe in the therapy of sin.
We believe that adultery is fun.
......
I.
I dream of you walking at night along the streams
of the country of my birth, warm blooms and the nightsongs
of birds opening around you as you walk.
You are holding in your body the dark seed of my sleep.
II.
This comes after silence. Was it something I said
......
Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deny'st me is;
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea, our two bloods mingled be;
Thou knowest that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead.
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pampered, swells with one blood made of two,
And this, alas, is more than we would do.
......
Have the poets left in the garment a place for a patch to be patched by me; and did you know the abode of your beloved after reflection?2
The vestige of the house, which did not speak, confounded thee, until it spoke by means of signs, like one deaf and dumb.
Verily, I kept my she-camel there long grumbling, with a yearning at the blackened stones, keeping and standing firm in their own places.
It is the abode of a friend, languishing in her glance, submissive in the embrace, pleasant of smile.
Oh house of 'Ablah situated at Jiwaa, talk with me about those who resided in you. Good morning to you, O house of 'Ablah, and be safe from ruin.
......
Children are not weapons to wield
In a broken marriage battlefield,
Trying to teach your children to hate,
Losing control is something "you" hate.
My life is mine, and mine alone,
No one take it and call it their own.
"Go where you want, be free to roam".
By Jim Noond.
God, or nature if you will, in designed plan
gave Love to ensure continuity of man.
[ Love Discovered ]
Espied loveliness with nimbus head of hair,
swain close yet remote from she reposing there.
[ Reverie ]
In dazzling fantasies and their afterglows,
musings grow poetic, supplanting thoughts in prose.
......
The bitterest pill I had to take is
When you said "I do" to them
They don't know about romance
And the games they play
Though, they put a ring on yr finger
And shown you their perfect smile
If I had said something
To convince you they're wrong for you
I would have strength to say
However, I am weak and kept quiet
......
I will not wear a white dress
For the colour reminds me of death
Death of dreams
Death of independence
Forever you are bonded to a person
After they want to leave
We point the boat where we want to go.
And the wind shoves us aside some days.
Or the waters churn with chum and we’re surrounded…
Or the boat springs a leak we must patch
Quick! with whatever’s on hand.
So what?
We paddle our boat together.
We point it where we want to go.