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The Moon is Sweet
The Evenings Stars and Blush glad,
Even when we happen to be sad
Sweet Bliss Is An Inner Caress away
Exotic Silohuettes
Are Roses in the Moonlight

I can feel the way
your Candles sighs
By the way that You Love me
Your Exotic Silohuette
Becomes like Roses in The Moonlight

Somewhere Sweet WithIn
You Read my Poems,
Your Beauty Blushes
Its Loves forever Roses
You are a Salsa Waterfall,
In Our Golden solitudes
Exotic Silohuettes
Sway Like Roses in the Moonlight

The Moon Be Sweet
With Our Love And Your Beauty
If there was never enough Sun
Moonlight and Rain
There would never be enough Flowers
To Sigh I Love You

Reynaldo Casison
Maryann I Feb 25
Love is the quiet certainty of morning,
the warmth of sunlight slipping through the blinds,
touching my skin like a whispered promise:
I am here, and I will always return.

It is the steady rhythm of a heart not my own,
the echo of laughter I can still hear in the silence,
the way your voice turns my name
into something softer, something sacred.

Love is not just the grand confessions,
not just the roses and candlelit nights—
it is the hand that reaches for mine
without thinking, without hesitation,
as if our fingers were always meant to intertwine.

It is the way you tilt your head when you’re listening,
the way you tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear,
the way you turn ordinary moments into poetry
without ever writing a single word.

Love is the gravity that keeps me steady,
the pull of the moon on restless tides,
the way your presence feels like home
even when I am far from everything familiar.

It is the space between heartbeats,
the hush before a kiss,
the silence that somehow speaks louder than words—
a promise that does not need to be spoken:
I am yours, and I always will be.
Zack Feb 6
Sunlight on my book
The clouds are gone — for today
This chapter is great
Reading brings me peace especially under natural sunlight
Ken Pepiton Feb 4
A sermon,
of a sort, one
of a kind classified

prosopopoeia literally
a form or figure of speech,
answering a proposed query,

who what when where or why.

Centering our attention on why,
I shall endeavor, as I have heard
sermocinators originally served

those lacking book learning

with oral interpretation
on duty and debt, et cetera.
Sermocinations.
So, to use the time alloted
to retie the tie binding duty
and honor to the story told

in generally Christmas and Easter,
congregations of true traditionalists.

Our duty,
after tariffs on attention paid
football and all ball based
forms fertilized and fed
with yeastyeatsweets
at local circuses,
- stuck in costume
- take the collar off
- symbolically we do
- all we have
- to do
- nada mas, the traditions
- the cultural square laws
- stacking steep or straight
cotton candy pink

and now, local news,
wherever you may think
we use magic wherewith we
- impose Jello time, allowing
- our posed media shared mind
- state works with thinking letting
- letters form words from thoughts,

Thunk,
enscribe truths heard in wordform
seen in letters long since become
common,
to any able ever
to think,
pen and ink,
at the rate of cursive text to
press to
whom, objective subject re
submission, to a public mind re
whom do we turn, verily we kind
we category of mankind, unsorted
remnemonic palaces of liturgical awe
into heform sheform weform, mixed us,
untried spirits, most of us never thunk once
we the receivers warming the pews, expecting

or saying we do. Amen.
Sermon sayers saying same preplanned response.

Riddle me a riddle, Zeke,
whose holy stories hide
behind discipline, price paid, most honed
duty engrained since first communion, accepted
as common sense since first witnessed
on TV,
by the now grandfathering endurers
survivors of the mind wars, religious wars,
and mindshare wars after all attention was

valued on scales we stagger to think
we tip over backwards looking up to think

how can I look through the JWST.
How can any not attempt
to grasp the expanse
crossed since Alamogordo,
epimethean destiny makes religamentation work.
Did we ever wonder if saying amen means anything?
Indeed, mental enmonic   -non sense there's no such
Mnemonic, e-lessly de
memory neuronal response tool re
taught in rhetoric courses all bishops take,
courses,
of course, all who feel such duty calling, take
the same courses through human events as we

listen, as the winds list,
as we lean into the rhetorical
oracle of certainty central
inside job creative theory,
no outside sapience needed
to shape us,
as a we
form
touch
the ruling point, mean middle
to existing
on Earth, as words alone,
after all's been said.
Dendritic silk
Told known done
by confessing having will
to believe,
-- thickened time is pudding's proof

reality and time and all those other clusters
of weform organized societies, where children learned,

by royal decree, all children need be Starlinked to vote,

say what? Say what you think
in plain text translatable
cognatively allowing globalized Macaroni poetic license,

you know what I mean,
but in other words,
we agree, base
mind we form,
we
reading for the fun of it,
to get the feel of words as common as get
gotten and forgotten tenthousand times today,

there is a river, many messengers attest, a flow,
the  mind form imaginable in holy tellings of knowledge

science true call using knowledge with science,
consci used as psi or psy or gno or know is used,

to think, just
stop/think

Ai, you know, I would, as wills being imaginably
done, you know, I would, if I were you, enjoy

the time it takes

to read with all new words, to think your self
just ified, made up in a mind, inside
at least infested imaginably
with many verbs, set
to respond

to sponsors calling all who see
to see the mark
of me,
my weform, my teamform, my loyalty defining we form,

from which,
howling poets ever were out cast,

alas, but the Greeks had a word
for everything, the logos set of all Logos Sets,

tinker toys
erector sets
electric trains, and guns
these were toys of rich little boys

in America, as seen on TV in Tijuana

Waves, gentle, thinking price to know, ra'
as a thought, high e to compute a worth, towb
beautiful

tapestries, tries, thinking
in cursive tip preserving,

delicate touch tip to lip,

Sermonic deontological slip

up yours, the local team roars
all laughing like we were involved
no delay, west wall sunny day Febru=
februarius mensis "month of purification,"

so, as sermons granted whole days to happen
as such must agree who followed today, as hapt

to seem strange, by design
a quest toward the very answer we expect.


--- mindhat pause
Literally letting words mean all they may
in actual Wikipedian translations thinkable
across the spectrum, we form to make our

point, why are we involving you, or me, for
that which matters does not matter much for me.

Kinda wanna think it madjathank at a point thunk.

Power On Self Test

Invest the rest of one day in a story,
to discern the point to this course through

known, by word of mouth, mostly, through
time barely rememorable, mostly among
Latch key syndrome urban and rural

recollectable signs we shoulda seen,
but life, particularly self fulfilling bets
put in the time to see the first Jubilee,

and for many, learning once, in truth,

trade in a band of brothers mythic honor form,
a we of honed most blades in service of science,
slicing ever more gently the material reality, as we
scratch the beards on old men faces
we wear to bed at night, and find on other
peacemakers, earth as it must be where peace
abides, in truth, not entertained unawares, peace
made thinkably possible if pride were devalued.

Perfectly said, one thought, I heard go ding.
We are on the same page here, there is one thing

past understanding,

kindness rules evolution, we hate to differ,
we love to conjoin realities we each have endured

this is us, once more, forming a big parade,
or a strand of the stuff we see weaving galaxies

at scales only minds unbound by letters relax
loose
bowels of courage gut felt punched, too often,
gnoshit, Forrest Gump hit a nerve.

Whose is the audience, since all the world's
our stage, all active words advance

on step up, two steps back, onstep up, and so on…
element after loving simple long enough, you see
JAMIL HUSSAIN Dec 2024
In stillness deep, where worldly sounds do cease,
A spark is born, unseen by night or day.
A whisper stirs, within Love's sweet release,
Faint as the dawn, yet in it all doth play.

The secret One, in silence doth proclaim,
Before the light, He calls, yet none may name.
What fire is this, that leaps from dark to bright?
It is the soul’s most earnest longing's might.

In thee, within thy breast, the worlds do rest,
A flame so pure, no mortal hand may test.
In this fair fire, all fates are spun and drawn,
Thou art the spark that maketh stars to dawn.

O’ soul, fear not the smallest flame's embrace,
For in its glow, all things find their place.
It bears with it a truth beyond the sky,
A vision vast, that bids the spirit fly.

Within thy heart, the Beloved’s face doth shine,
In Love’s sweet clasp, all secrets are thine.
Claim now the flame, for in it thou shalt see
The path that binds thee unto eternity.
The Spark of the Beloved 27/12/2024 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
What is the meaning of Spiritual Initiation?
It is a start to reach our ultimate destination
The guidance of a Guru can take us there faster
But for this, we need an Enlightened Master!
Initiation is the beginning of our Journey to the Truth
It is the way to get to the bottom of the root

Why Spiritual Initiation? Why must we go on a Quest?
Why must we put our beliefs to test?
Because of ignorance, what we were taught in schools
We continue to believe and live like fools!
It's time to question, 'Who am I?'
'Am I this Body that will just live and die?

To Initiate the Journey, we must still the Mind
It is our enemy, this Truth, we must find
Along with the Ego, it becomes Mind and Ego, ME
It tells us, 'We are the Body,' in the mirror that we see
It hides the Truth that we are the Divine Soul
We need Initiation to reach our Goal!
Initiation is a Journey to Self-Realization
With the help of the Guru, it is Purification
Then, we move forward and there is Illumination
Till we arrive at the Truth called Realization
But Initiation is just the beginning, what is the end?
Enlightenment or Spiritual Awakening, ignorance to transcend

Many people are seeking only to be initiated
They blindly follow the myth and make life complicated
Initiation means to question everything and ask, 'Why?'
'What is my purpose on earth and who am I?'
'What was the reason that I came to earth?'
'What is the purpose of my human birth?'

Initiation often needs the help of Meditation
When we still the mind, we start Contemplation
We reach a state of Consciousness
It is Mindfulness, it is Awareness
In this state, it is the Intellect that will shine
We will Discriminate and Realize that nothing is mine

What is this world? It's just a show
We are just actors, we come and we go!
Until there is Initiation, nothing we know
But with the help of a Master, spiritually, we grow
We Realize that the Purpose of life is Liberation
And after Realization, Divine Unification

How do we know, we are on the right path?
Are we fooled by rituals in a religious bath?
Do we believe in the universal lie?
That God is an old man, who lives in the sky?  
Initiation will take us to the Truth of Realization
But for this, we must do Self-Certification

Nobody knows if we are Spiritually Awakened
But the Guru can guide us to be Enlightened
Unless we are honest with the Guru and in him, we trust
Self-Certification won't work, so this comes first  
Obedience to the Guru is a must
To give us worldly desires and give up lust

Other than the Guru, nobody can know
Are we truly Enlightened or we're putting up a show
If with the Guru, there is a Divine Connection
Then, truthful will be our Self-Certification
Otherwise, the Initiation will cause confusion
And we may never reach our destination

What are the things that we must certify?
We must first, find out the truth, 'Who am I?'
For this, we must find out, what we are not
Escape from the Mind and Ego, that ties us in a knot!
When we Realize, these, we are not but we are
'Who are we?' We certify, we cross the bar

Self-Certification is about endorsing, we are the Soul
But this is the Beginning, not yet the goal
The Soul is nothing but the Divine Power, SIP
The Supreme Immortal Power, must be certified on our lip
When God, we are able, in all, to see
Then we can certify, we Realize the Divine energy

The Soul is but a Spark Of Unique Life
This Certification liberates us from strife
But the Soul is nothing, it is God, it is SIP!
We must certify and move forward in this trip
Now, we are sailing on a Spiritual ship
One by one, the Certification saves us from a slip!

Ultimately, what must we get in sight?
Finally, we have to switch on the inner light
Certification is to reach that state of Inner Enlightenment
It is transcending pleasure and achievement
We will pass by contentment and fulfillment
And certify, we are no more slaves of entertainment

Spiritual Awakening is Eternal Bliss
It is a state of Truth Consciousness
It is Divine Love for one and all
And this is certified, when the Ego has a fall
As long as the Ego stands tall like a wall
We can't Certify Enlightenment, we will fall!

Therefore, it is important to read this book
One-by-one, each Certification, will change the outlook
We must be sincere in our Initiation
And with honesty, do Self-Certification
The process is long, there will be Realization
And ultimately, there will be Liberation!

Life has a meaning, it has a purpose
Without Initiation, it will just be a circus
If we just live and then we die
If we are not Enlightened, 'Who am I?'
The Body will die but we will be reborn
We will suffer and this will go on and on

Therefore, today, let us start our Initiation
Not delay our Journey of Realization
For this, we must first get an Enlightened Soul
Getting the right Guru achieves half the Goal
Then, the Spiritual Journey must go on
Nothing must stop us from dusk to dawn  
  
Ultimately, at death, happens one of the two things
Initiation is the one that Peace and Bliss brings
If there is no Spiritual Awakening, there will be reincarnation
But Enlightenment is the result of Realization
We have time, let us make a choice
Let us not delay, let us be wise!
JAMIL HUSSAIN Dec 2024
Tea: Jamil, in the soft breath of dawn,  
I am the whisper that healeth, that’s drawn  
From the quiet depths of forgotten dreams,  
A balm for the heart where silence gleams.  
I hold thee close with love that is slow,  
Like a river’s song, gentle and low.  
Yet on Saturdays, I see thee depart,  
To the fire that stealeth thy wandering heart.  
She calleth with a fervor, a scorching desire,  
Whilst I, the shadow, wait, untouched by fire.

Coffee: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not know?  
I am the flame that maketh thee glow.  
Her touch may soothe, her peace may bind,  
But I am the tempest that frees thy mind.  
I stir thee deep where secrets dwell,  
In the heat of passion, I break the spell.  
Once a week, thou dost return to me,  
And in mine arms, thou art truly free.  
Her silence may cradle thee in sleep,  
But I am the pulse, the heart that leaps.

Tea: But Jamil, dost thou not feel the grace  
That I weave around thee in this place?  
I am the quiet that holdeth thee near,  
The balm for thy soul, the voice sincere.  
She burneth with a passion that blindeth thy sight,  
But I am the dusk, the still of the night.  
When thy heart is weary, when thoughts collide,  
It is I who still thee, a place to hide.  
She is the fire, but I am the rain,  
The softness that sooth’th thy deepest pain.

Coffee: Jamil, thou art blind to see—  
In my fire, thy soul shall be.  
Her touch may cradle thee with care,  
But I am the wind that stirreth the air.  
She whispereth peace, but I roar with power,  
I am the lightning, the midnight hour.  
Once a week, thou dost call my name,  
And in my heat, thou find’st no shame.  
She giveth thee rest, but I giveth thee life,  
The pulse that cutteth through all thy strife.

Tea: Yet, Jamil, in mine arms dost thou not find  
A peace that quieteth the storm in thy mind?  
I am the silence between each sigh,  
The softest breath that maketh thee fly.  
She may burn bright with her fire and flame,  
But I am the root that calleth thy name.  
When the world is cruel, when the heart is lost,  
It is I who heal thee, whatever the cost.  
She is the storm, but I am the earth,  
The place where love findeth its rebirth.

Coffee: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not know?  
I am the pulse that maketh thee grow.  
Her calm may cradle thee, but I ignite  
The flame that burneth through the endless night.  
Once a week, thou dost seek my fire,  
In mine embrace, thou dost never tire.  
She cradles thee in soft repose,  
But I am the ache, the longing that grows.

Tea: Still, Jamil, dost thou not see,  
In mine silence, thy soul is free?  
I am the lullaby that maketh thee dream,  
The quiet touch, the steady stream.  
She is the fire that consumeth and taketh,  
But I am the love that gently breaketh.  
When thou art lost, when thy heart is torn,  
It is I who will guide thee, reborn.  
She is the tempest, the wild, the flame,  
But I am the refuge, the place of shame.

Coffee: Jamil, thou dost not understand,  
I am the fire, the burning hand.  
Her touch is soft, but mine is raw,  
The wild desire, the heart's deep flaw.  
Once a week, thou dost seek my flame,  
And in my heat, thou dost find thy name.  
She whispereth peace, but I am the cry,  
That maketh thee break the chains and fly.

Tea: O’ Jamil, in mine arms dost thou not find  
A peace that settl’th the restless mind?  
I am the thread that bindeth thee whole,  
The gentle calm, the quiet soul.  
She may burn bright, but I am the dawn,  
The steady light that carrieth thee on.  
Return to me when the world is loud,  
For I am the shadow, the softest cloud.

Coffee: Together, Jamil, we maketh thee complete,  
I am the fire, she is the beat.  
Thou need’st both to stir thy soul,  
The calm, the storm, the part, the whole.  
In my flame, thou dost find thy way,  
In her peace, thou shalt stay.  
For in each sip, thy soul shall learn—  
Both the fire and silence return.

Tea: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not see?  
In mine stillness, both fire and peace shall be.  
I am the balm that healeth the wound,  
The steady heart, the sacred tune.  
Her flames may rise, her heat may burn,  
But I am the river that letteth thee return.  
In each moment, in each sigh,  
We are both the fire and the sky.
The Rivalry: Tea -v- Coffee 22/12/2024 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
JAMIL HUSSAIN Dec 2024
She came, a scent upon the air,  
Her lips, like honey, pure and rare  
A sweetness that the world had lost,  
Now found in her—at any cost.  
Her eyes, twin flames in velvet night,  
Winked, and my soul took sudden flight
A bird unbound, a heart unchained,  
To seek the love that once remained.  

Her gaze, a magnet, quiet, deep,  
Drew forth the secrets I would keep,  
It pulled my heart, a trembling thread,  
And in its path, my soul was led.  
In every glance, a universe,  
A love unspoken, soft, immersed,  
She tore my heart to fragile strips  
Each one a kiss upon her lips.  

I gave her all, yet nothing showed,  
A path of thorns, where roses flowed
For in her eyes, the fire grew,  
A blaze that burned the old me through.  
The fire of love, the fire of pain,  
The fire that breaks, yet makes again.  

She took the pieces, scattered wide,  
Each one a prayer, each one a guide,  
Her hands, like angels, softly pulled  
My broken heart, and made it whole.  
In her, I found the sacred flame,  
In her, my soul was known by name.  

And though I wander, lost and free,  
Her gaze will call, and there I’ll be  
A lover bound by her sweet grace,  
Forever lost in her embrace.
In the Wake of Her Kiss 21/12/2024 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
saint8 Dec 2024
Im too hurt.
Too hurt to speak.
I go by a sunny day , stop to thank it.
But i dont want to talk.
My voice will be the disturbance in a beautiful moment.
But how gracious are things when
We just stare at them.
Quietly.
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