As the winds break into small feathered kisses
and idly burden the heart this May day
I lament for all the long withered wishes
once whose petals bloomed on my way.

A begone time love feeling unfailingly true
a touch that left a long hovering trail
on the probing soul fertile they grew
before cruel days wore them frail.

Aspirations soared on sun blazed wings
they had to be have on awakened nights
the innocent's hunts for the most precious things
haloed in passions of untamable sights.

On feathered winds were they drifted and gone
notions of love and visions to build high
but by their fire made me a man
leaving imprints as the years went by.

~~~
When the wooden door leads a little,
To a force is put
In the erst of the body fleece wells,  
Sweet sweating as the dew is deposited

The clamor of the known birds,
Uttering,
Be filled,
North wind changes direction,
Comes through my southern window

When harmonic air,
Passed over the yellow paddy fields,
Farmers perches hope's aroma
Into the hearts  

At the mid of the noon,
Cowboys keep exhaustion on flute
Swelling of the new message,
Leaves
Flowers
Fruits

After a Long waiting,
Pied crested Cuckoo singing
Mating songs
The peacock repeatedly whispering peahen

My beloved,
Your one "April" desires
bought us,
Cuddly child as the light purple rose

And they say you
Sing your song of arrival
O' April O' come!
Once Again!

Show Your Cyclone form
Engross your soul
Bring the rain,
Chill the Nature
Add to birth New Child for the unscathed time
~~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

opposites attract you know
positive and negative
from distances
near and far
i seem to find you
right next to me
you dont know it
but as our tension grows stronger
our magnetic hearts
grow stronger
and harder to seperate
all these girls that occupy me
are just fish in the sea
so as i spin
trying to find
what im attracted to
so look out
because im headed to you

With brain bashing into head cavity,
the gelatinous mass of neurons screams out
to white blood cells swimming in eyeballs
to evacuate before drowning.
"Quit clowning around in there and
save yourselves!"
The moody mistress creates her own hells:
congratulations!
Sleeping alone in a sweat covered bed,
she spins saccharine thoughts and pollutes her head
with taffy, thick like molasses,
cooking sugar in the kitchen with
the wrong end of a spoon in her mouth.
Dried up *** stains litter her couch
as she wakes up to turn the cushions
and search for loose change
to fill up her coin pouch.
"Ouch! Ouch!"
She calls out, clean
sheets on a new day,
his fingers firing in a frenzy
and introducing the fusion of
pleasure and pain.
He smells of benzene and
she's afraid of burning,
stomach churning and
using gasoline as lubricant.
He hit her, she said, and it felt like a kiss.
She misses him at her day job
when she runs around town
robbing banks and
picking up handkerchiefs
that grandmothers drop on the ground.
He would pound
his manhood into a brick wall
if it moved like her,
but the skin-and-bones combo
woos him to coo at her
as swarms of sparrows
nest in her ***** hair.
Spit shined shoes and
riding leaves blown on the air,
she dreams of him awake,
listless eyes alive and pulsing
behind a film of glassy, viscous mucus.
She makes magic potions out of the scents
left over on one of her
mismatching pillow cases.
He tastes like roasted red peppers
and lingering mace:
her eyes water as she
chokes back ***** daintily,
like a queen.
His eyes gleam mean as
he steals her breath to
add it to his bursting bank account,
releasing her to give her back only gasps,
the 2% interest.
She crafts road maps of his back bone while he sleeps,
but he sees her as a phantom,
creeping through the floorboards,
a faceless specter with an ace up her sleeve.

My thoughts are chemicals.
I am made of recycled cells
That I ingest, I take in what's best
For optimal health, active or at rest.

My DNA as mysterious as the Cosmos,
The Cosmos less of a mystery than Ocean floors.
I come from the Ocean, an awesome notion,
A family with all others, every Thing is a cousin.

My ancestors all made it to reproduction.
I am assembled, through history, through selection.
My traits have been crafted, positively reacted.
Nurtured by Nature, genes that have lasted.

I am made from the stars,
Drink water that passed through dinosaurs.
I experience Life, though filled with a bounty of strife,
Through eyes of a Human, intelligence my paradise.

And though my species feels more advanced
And in control of a world we craft with our own hands,
We are not self-efficient, resources increasingly deficient,
A virus to be easily shaken, in which the planet would not be missing.

I have a fleeting gift,
Amidst the destruction that here lives,
And that is my consciousness,
No fear of abyss, no promise of bliss,

But in my spark of a lifetime,
Seemingly insignificant, and that's fine,
I have inside endless thoughts with my mind,
No need of afterlife with a gift so divine.

i. Allow yourself to be clichéd. Forgive yourself the comparison to phenomena like stars, tsunamis, volcanoes, and the end of the world.  There is no shame in depicting the galaxies you see in your irises or the seas crashing in your lungs. Don’t for a minute diminish your words because you’re afraid of seeming larger, lovelier, or grander than you really are. Keep writing huge. Keep writing splendorous.

ii. Destroy the anxiety gap between you and your work. Sit down and write whatever’s filling you in that moment. When stupidity comes, embrace it. When unoriginality comes, offers it your deepest welcome. When panic comes, give it a wink and keep dragging your pen across the page. There is no wrong, no right. There is only Something. Do not label the Something in such stark, dull terms as good or bad. If you must label it, label it burning, label it victorious, scarlet, howling, fresh, moving, disastrous, gleaming, but never reduce it to success or non-success. Who are you to determine these things? How can you take what streams out of you and cram it into a superficially constructed box? Would you degrade any other kind of natural release? Would you relegate blood flow or shouting or tears to a simple one-word title? This is your time to glow in full vulnerability, to fall head over heels for every blundering, beautiful thought within you, so build a bridge between you and the paper that will be strong enough to bear your weight. Then cross it.

iii. Know who you are writing for. It should be yourself, not the one who holds your heart or the fire-faced figure in the park at dusk or people who make your soul twist. Write for brave, bruised you; wondering, powerful you. Always you.

iv. Rise above the need to match your creation to a preordained image in your mind. The two will never be the same and this is fine. Accept whatever you produce with tender detachment, then move forward. Remember that every literary icon has felt the same pounding dissatisfaction, and walked about tugging at their hair, frustrated and abashed. Remember they are no closer to divinity than you. Ultimately, we are all just shells through which a greater ocean sings, so let yours wail its melody as it likes.

v. Write without the tight egoic fist; write without a blueprint; write without fear. Write like it is your first day on earth and you are stunned with awe. Write like the caterpillar bursting from its cocoon, transformed, breathless. Write like that.

i am the prime of numbers
always destined to be divided by one
the quantum of entanglement
the fusion of bright day
my brothers whisper tales of starlit jewel skies
my close embrace would melt your silky skin like
summer melts strawberry ice cream from the hands of a child
i replay 4.6 billion years in my mind
wondering,
how you came into being
as if by miracle
by chance of chances
i kiss your lips with my loving rays
always and forever
counting the softness of the atoms in your skin
cutting pieces of myself on the wires that control this universe
i face my doom gladly
hoping,
you'll notice i would bleed my hands dry
just to give this momentary blip you call life
another
haunting kiss,
joyous smile,
and most dangerous wink
before the hands of time
turns the miracle of your flesh to ashes
i could never tell you
i would burn everyone else
to ashes a thousand times over
just to be alone with you
just to feel your mystery right here
next to mine.