He smelled like my Dad
Or like Old Spice and Zest
He smelled like a person working on cars
Or of the outdoors
He smelled like fresh milled wood
Or like a shirt worn with sweat
He smelled like our living room
Or like our dog named Stanley
He smelled like green trees
Or like a tavern where an un-known band plays
He smelled like an antique dresser
Or like a vintage vehicle
He smelled like warm buttered toast
Or like fresh brewed coffee
Although his smell's been gone for ages
I can still remember the way he smelled
Sometimes I can still smell him

Your touch ignites something in me.

It leaves me breathless.

It leaves a sense that I'm still alive and breathing

But you soon leave me cold and winded.

Your smell is what I look for in the air.

I urge for the sent of coffee and cigarettes.

Not the smell of cheap perfume and ***.

Your sight is impeccable.

You told me it was love at first sight.

Then straight after you serenading that young waitress with your lies.

Your taste was a delightful bliss.

The feeling of your full lips was my sweet escape.

That's why I expected the cherry lip gloss still lingering from nights before while you thought I was sleeping.

Your hearing is what amazed me the most.

Even though you heard me sobbing constantly into my pillow you ignored.

All you did was give me that reassuring smile that you thought could fix anything.

Oh, were you so ******* wrong.

Why can't we die in dreams?
Is it because we haven't experienced death
or because no one knows what lies beyond?

Why can't we feel in dreams?
Is it because it's purely imagination
or because we choose not to go that far?

Why can't we smell in dreams?
Is it because our brains aren't processing
or because smells can be dangerous?
As can death and touch
It seems to me that in times of slumber
our brains protect us from all the power we have

Smell this.
There is a great stench among us.
It's stinking up society
And the justice system.
It's ruining a nation's deepest beliefs.
It's spoiling the achievement of a next generation.
It's pungent.

Taste this.
Even I can taste it on my tongue,
But I'm too much of a lover
To let it part from my thoughts.
It's meat rotting, turning to maggots.
It's poison festering deep in the core of man
And dispersing through his pores.

Hear this.
The wailing of a mother
As she cries for the life of her son.
The same yell screamed by
The crowned young ******
As she watched our Savior be nailed to a cross.
It's screeching.

See this.
A child.
A child slain
In the unjust ways of society.
A child bleeding life
Onto a cold, heartless ground.
A child. A child
Dying in broad daylight.
A child's smile,
Once brighter than a million suns
Going dark. Burning out.
It's flame, once ablaze,
Tiptoeing dimmer into darkness.

Feel this!
Warm blood.
Hot bullet.
Cold hearted.
Allow your fingers to tremble
Across the badge
That's rough around the edges.
That's connected to your assassin.
Feel the victim's hope disintegrate
With his breath.
Feel his mother's heartache.
Feel God's disappointment.

Sense this.
Sense innocence.
Sense wrongness.
Sense injustice.
But can you truly sense
The senseless
Of the situation?

Two lovers meet
One day, in secrecy

Hearts warm as a pillow
of makhmal

The lover says to his love
“You are a pearl buried in the
ruins of the world
People come and go
they watch
But they cannot smell the kastoori
They laugh, eat, and joke with you
But they don’t see your heart”

The mirror slips from her hand
It falls down
She cries and with shivering hand
She says
Tear apart the wall
You’ll not need any windows anymore



makhmal: velvety leaves
kastoori: musk

You hugged the smell of cigarettes
Stroked my scarred body
Called my early morning hours beautiful
Drank my silly words
Kissed my hidden sorrow

You always loved my damage

"The smell of earth
The feeling of sand
The gentle touch of the sun
I long for the hum of your warmth
Weep for the thought of our lust
For whom does this world belong
We abuse of it
Smother it
Concealed by its every morning
As dense as the cloud, as weak as your spirit
The mountains still crave your sound
The sky still crave your look"

by 9898xx

follow skinny white legs up
that slipshod hill
of cascading pebbles

sun filtering down on your hair
i wish i could run my fingers through it
and smell its flowers

my chest tightens when i peek over the edge
but you aren't afraid at all
balancing when you lean over an edge dropped rock

Ah! to see the flash of your eyes again
in our youth
when i close my own