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 Jan 2016
Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
Then it became a blue afternoon
while came to evening
They were the realities of her farewell
Glowed in the dark blue,
what an abstract shadow cast!
Floating Autumn Clouds,
away the red hibiscus grew gray
heard a vague weird tune

Then one morning
Along with a purple flower
red hibiscus saw inset
and the dark chorus of a clay oven
covered her face
away in the loft several gourd hanging
walking,
walking down the way
at the end,
stood beneath a banyan tree

Doors opened in the silence
southern wind followed
to move in the room
randomized the bed cover,
poetry books,
morning news paper
while closed the door
opened the northern windows

The tireless long night
while I left the room,
wandering as the lonely clouds
went through the garden
where the sky came down
wanted to say life
walked on foot
A long sleepless night
saw the stars fairs
heard a vague weird tune

At that April's night,
Caught the sight of
dry dropping leaves
The smell of gardenia
to bring me the new ideas
of poetry
touched the sky
wandering on a raft of clouds
filled with
see you decided to

Then it all went down together
in the dark with blue
anyhow a golden sun bought
a yellow day
and all the red flamboyant trees
singing
while standing beside
the two sides of the road
with the wind in breath,
my dying

And instead of go with them
mingled the ways of life is changed
when the ways rolled along a curve
One January morning's mist
coming off the sun on the dew
I liked to walk barefoot
in the soft sun
with a woolen blanket covering

At noon,
the river flowing
with streaming sound
took flock a small Sampan
toward upstream
uprising mind grew cool
with stream
Today is just going to get lost
beyond the horizon
Feel to see back,
Slowly known nature
grew small with time,
after some times
shadows mingled
with a dark space

While came the night
Footprints remain in the dust
of shadows
after millions of years
to become fossils
In the mind and
In the deep heart of
the Milky Way

Her fade face is still
to come and go
Over time,
in terms of conservation
of energy
Again when I opened the window
At a long sleepless night
Saw the stars fairs
Heard a vague weird tune
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
******************
************
 Jan 2016
Bill murray
One of the timeless classics.

Leap if your feelin froggy.

Well today i feel froggy.
 Jan 2016
Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
While the dawn flashed
Even rest of the friends went away
Exhausted cigarettes were on the Ash Tray
Evidence of the lost existence of

None didn't recall her, her words
But everyone moved with his head
Morning to evening, random
Not remembering, wandering  

How many people came
within too many ways
Again went through,
anywhere
Once I saw
even they didn't come back
anymore

At the late afternoon
in the window of my gray days  
I remember some faces
Mystic flowers remained
prostrate in the dust of
meandering ways

Came back
and picked up her
Loved, love
Far away on the other end,
rose up schematically
with the seventh
tunes of the guitar  

None didn't recall, her words
within the crowd
of a thousand faces,
In the counter path
of the clock
again I heard the song

The old song replaced
by the new,
morning shines
with the new sun
I hear the sounds of cry
of a new baby
Fungus has seen on the tape
of the old cassette

You are captive
within a dust covered album
My friend,
The lost spring,
The richness of our love,
As if I have left thousands of dreams  

Intangible time passing gently
with the tic tic of the timepiece
As if I have passed on the fastest train
Recognized the great known,
unknown wilderness

I woke up,
Saw
On the one hand,
your faded picture
The other hand,
holding hands of
The New Stranger of time
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
 Dec 2015
SøułSurvivør
~~♥~~

I used to think men
should be more like books
Both you cannot
judge by looks...

If I didn't want to finish reading
I put it down... no heart was bleeding

A book will never fuss or fight
It will stay with you
through the night...

It doesn't smoke. It doesn't drink.
It won't leave toothpaste
in the sink!

It doesn't binge... it don't eat...
It won't leave up the toilet seat!

It don't forget. It doesn't mope.
It won't hog the TV remote!

It doesn't have to have
The last say...
It doesn't have legs

to walk away.

But it's not soft. It isn't warm.
It doesn't keep you
safe from harm.

Even though it makes no fuss
It can't think. It can't discuss.

Even though it has its charms
it can't hold you in its arms.

It doesn't pine. It doesn't miss.
It can't hug and it can't kiss.

So now I think on it again...
... I think BOOKS should be
             more like MEN!!!



SoulSurvivor
2/20/2015
~~♥~~
 Dec 2015
Bill murray
If my time is to come
Then dog nabbit wrap me up
Like a rabbit in an old farmers coat
I prefer dickies.
I want to be warm
When my land gets stolen or sold
At least I won't sell my soul
Even if my land is taken
And I feel no more whole
I wanna be warm
Dog nabbit!
Not cold.
And gift wrap my banjo
Send it off to sea.
Let the sailers of the Pacific coast
Play sea songs
For me.
 Dec 2015
brandon nagley
Bʏɢօռɛ tʀɨɮɛsʍɛռ
Hɨɖɖɛռ ɮɛtաɨxt tɦɛ tɦɨċҡɛt;
Eʏɛ's քɨɛʀċɨռɢ ʟɨҡɛ ʍɨɖռɨɢɦt քaռtɦɛʀ's
Tɦɛɨʀ ʄɛatɦɛʀ's, ċօʟօʀʄʊʟ, ʀɨɢɨɖ.
Tɦɛʏ sɛɛɨtɦ tɦɛ ɨռʋaɖɛʀ's
Cօʍɨռɢ ʊքօռ tɦɛɨʀ sɦօʀɛ's,
Tɦɛɨʀ ʄʀɨɢɦtɛռɛɖ օʄ tɦɛ ʍɛtaʟ
Aռɖ ɦɛʟʍɛt's օʄ ɦɛʟʟ's stօʀʍ.
Tɦɛ ɖʀʊʍ ċɨʀċʟɛ stօք's
Tɦɛ ʍɛռ aռɖ աօʍɛռ stօք ɖaռċɨռɢ,
Tɦɛ ʄɨʀɛ ɮʊʀռɛtɦ ʟօա,
As tɨs ռօռɛ tɨʍɛ ʄօʀ ʀօʍaռċɨռɢ.
Tɦɛ Eʊʀօքɛaռ ɖɛatɦ ɮʀɨռɢɛʀ's
Tʀaʍքʟɛ saċʀɛɖ ɢʀօʊռɖ,
Tɦɛ ɢɦօsts օʄ օʟɖ
Iռɖɨaռ sօʊʟ's, ʍaʀċɦ աɨtɦ tɦɛ ʟɨʋɨռɢ tʀɨɮɛsʍɛռ
Tօ sɦaʍaռ sօʊռɖ's.
Dɛsɛċʀatɨօռ ɦatɦ ɮɛɢʊռ
Tɦɛ ɮʟօօɖ ɦatɦ ɮɛɛռ sքɨʟt.
Iռռօċɛռt ռatɨʋɛs, օʄ tɦɛɨʀ օառ ɦօʍɛʟaռɖ,
Raքɛɖ, քʟʊռɖɛʀɛɖ ɨռ ʄɨʟtɦ.
Tɦօʊ ċaռst stɨʟʟ ɦɛaʀɛtɦ tɦɛ Cʀʏ's օʄ tɦɛ ɮaɮɨɛs aռɖ աօʍɛռ,
As I ċaռst ɦɛaʀɛtɦ tɦɛ sɦaʍaռ աɦօ's ɮʊʀɨɛɖ ɨռ ɦɨs tօʍɮ,
Pʟaʏɨռɢ ɦɨs ʄʟʊtɛ aʟօʄt ɦɛaʋɛռʟʏ ċɛɨʟɨռɢ's.
As tɨs tɦɛ aʄtɛʀ-ɛʄʄɛċts ċaռst ɮɛɛռ sɛɛռ ʄʀօʍ aʄօʀɛtɨʍɛs,
Tɦɛ աatɛʀ's ʏɛʟʟօա, ɮʀɛatɦɨռɢ ɨs sɦaʟʟօա, ʄɨʀɛs aʀt ɮʊʀռɨռɢ tɦɛ ʍօʊռtaɨռ's aռɖ Mɛaɖօաs, ʄʀօʍ tɦօsɛ ʀɨċɦ ʍɛռ աɨtɦ tɨռ-ʍɛtaʟ ɦat's; as tɨs tɦɛʏ sօʊɢɦt a ռɛա օʀɖɛʀ, as tɦɛ ʍɛɖɨċɨռɛ ʍɛռ ʄօʀɛsaա tɦɛsɛ atʀօċɨtɨɛs aռɖ sʟaʊɢɦtɛʀ's. Tɦɛ sɦaʍaռ քʀօքɦɛsɨɛɖ օʄ tɦɛ ʍʊʀɖɛʀ օʄ tɦɛɨʀ աaʀʀɨօʀ's aռɖ ɖaʊɢɦtɛʀ's, as tɦɛʏ saաɛst a ռɛա աօʀʟɖ օʀɖɛʀ , ċօʍɨռɢ ɛʋɛռ at tɦat tɨʍɛ.



©Brandon Nagley
@Lonesome poets poetry
©Prophetic poetry
Poem goes as such if you can't read fancy words loll...

Title is -hidden betwixt the thicket, lies the eye's of the tribesmen.

Bygone tribesmen
Hidden betwixt the thicket;
Eye's piercing like midnight panther's
Their feathers, colorful, rigid.
They seeith the invader's
Coming upon their shore's,
Their frightened of the metal
And helmet's of hell's storm.
The drum circle stop's
The men and women stop dancing,
The fire burneth low,
As tis none time for romancing.
The European death bringer's
Trample sacred ground,
The ghosts of old
Indian souls, march with the living tribesmen
To shaman sound's.
Desecration hath begun
The blood hath been spilt.
Innocent natives, of their own homeland,
*****, plundered in filth.
Thou canst still heareth the Cry's of the babies and women,
As I canst heareth the shaman who's buried in his tomb,
Playing his flute aloft heavenly ceilings.
As tis the after-effects canst be seen from aforetimes,
The waters yellow, breathing is shallow, fires art burning the mountain's and Meadows, from those rich men with tin-metal hat's; as tis they sought a new order, as the shaman prophesied of the ****** of their warrior's and daughter's, as they sawest a new world order, coming even at that time.
 Dec 2015
Bill murray
How is it superb, if you don't got the erb in it? Or maybe that's herb.
 Dec 2015
Bill murray
What do you get
When ya mix some ****
Into some fine clay and dirt?
Ya get good farming soil.
It's irony how we eat crap
And we turn to crap when turning stiff corpses.
 Dec 2015
Bill murray
Fiddle diddles

Rhymin riddles
Gramps needs more sleep

Gramps is ****** skittles
Ate to much of those sugary treats.

Backs aching




I'd love for grandmammy to rub these feet
 Dec 2015
Bill murray
Who said I'm schizophrenic?
Oh look politician's doing good for the country
Oops sorry my ****** visions again
 Dec 2015
ryn
Too long I've rested upon my throne.
Ordained as ruler,
I wield a sceptre
imbued with old indoctrinated notions.
Bound in aged, tired traditions.
Obstinacy clasped tight within my fingers.

Living by the
foundations laid,
imposed by predecessors before.
I realise that I am but caged
within my self enforced confines.

I want what lays beyond...
But I am afraid...
And more...

I must embrace the unknown.
Be fearless...
And take to the darkness.

Because...

One can only fly free into greatness
if one is unafraid to take the leap
into changing winds.
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