Oh colorful song bird that whistles and chirps with little in the way of a care. How I do envy you and all that you must not worry for. To some you seem so simple, yet you are more clever than they know. You need only exist and be as part of nature. Everything is given to you and many scorn this, because it seems too easy you see. To be born with a song and all that you shall need to know, a simple yet wise existence. To fly around and flutter, until it is time to move on to warmer parts of the world. Then when the earth turns, you know to move again and return back to where you have already been. No map is required for you, you simply know the way. Eating, drinking, flying and singing hold the better part of your day. Until you must move on, I shall envy you for you are wiser than us all. We huddled masses of flesh that scrounge for prominence and gain, while all along you realize that you have all that you need.

The lightning crackles
Like a rattlesnake rattles
The sun burns weary
evaporating the teary
The soul unfolds in sin
squeezing life out of wind
Stay down upwind
of my ginaceous grin
My favor is South
always South . . .
by Southwest

Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
The creator of the ends of the earth.
Do you not know?
While what you see around you is temporary,
while those around you may not be as dependable as they might at first seem
there is someone who is never flaky,
someone who does not disappear at the first sign of trouble
(or for that matter at any signs of trouble).
Someone who remains when the going gets tough,
someone who stands with you whatever,
someone who goes before you wherever,
someone who is never fazed by what lies around the corner
because He's been there.
Even if you go to the ends of the earth
He will never grow weary,
His understanding will never be exhausted
for He created every beginning and every end
He lasts -
He lasts lifelong.

As an all day rain strings
together a falling sea, and
the sound of wetness refuses
to become any word.
Four times closer than closed
walls, taken for nothing at
all between them.
You climb out of me, as a
reminder where you live.
All I can do is watch the
earth drink...and know that's
how things grow.

Not A poem

dawn whispers softly
its conch shell pink lip placed
on the sky's dark ear


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/17/2017

The moon says the final word tonight -
Casual-recherché and light;
She, in the absence of the sun,
Leafs through the pages of the night
And shoots a side-look at the pond,
As her desire stretches far beyond
His specular contour.

© LazharBouazzi, Carthage, Tunisia

I was never the hero of
My own life. Nor did I try to
Be. I ran. No Red Badge of Courage.

No Olympiad. No laurels to be placed
On a head bowed in humility. I ran...
In the wrong direction. I had a Dragon
To chase, you see. No St George,
However. I wanted to embrace the
Monster, and take it home. And in
Doing so, i was severely burned
In the process.

I've spent a majority of my life
severely addicted to drugs and
Alcohol. Anything. ***. Amphetamines.
Acid. ***... Anything that could
Alter my pathetic state. I was the
Walking Wounded. Dead. My drug
Of choice was *******. Crack. It did
The job better than anything else
I tried. The euphoria a road to
That fabulous beast unlike any other.
That pipe and lighter its flaming maw.

But, ironically, the rock of my shame
Lead to the Rock of my Salvation.

And I finally ran... into Jesus's arms.