Thanksgiving with my Eternal Beloved.

I sat all morning with my bold lover so destructive in deed.

Thou, silent form dost tease me out of Thought. I am silver

 and exact but Thou immortal breath weakens and purifies.

 After great pain, a formal feeling comes.  Batter my heart.

Knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend. That I may rise

and stand alone, crashing  patterns cemented in  time,

and make me new. Take me, my beloved.  The world 

imprison's  me, or I, except Thou entrall me, never shall

be free, nor ever chaste, except thou ravish me. World,

divorce me, untie and break that knot, an ego chained.

No longer I am betrothed unto the world, a trickster of

reason. Tearing the mask that grins and lies, the debts

 I pay to human guile. Why should the world be over

wise in counting my tears and sighs?  No more, I wear

a mask laden with lies seduced by false morality. I have

trod, trod, and trod; and all is seared and bleared.

One short sleep past, I wake eternally in  Thou arms,

Thou, my beloved is the dearest freshness, with ah!

Thou art my bright star pillowed upon my breast.

To awake in a sweet unrest is to hear Thou tender

taken breath. Thou ar't my love, thou without no

name, thou without form. I breathe Thou fragrance.

My heart with pleasure fills and dances with the

daffodils. For oft, when I sit and meditate in vacant

 or in an pensive mood. My love, Thou boldly burn 

 fragments on my Mind, no longer a need. A flash upon

 my inward eye as a rainbow in the sky. Your love,

my beloved alters not and bears out even to the edge

of doom. It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests

and is never shaken. My beloved, Thou make me weak

by time and fate, strong in will, to strive, to find, and not

 to yield. Thou  internal  silence is the beating of my heart,

the passing of blood, and air through my lungs. This delight

 I share with Thou, my eternal beloved, on Thanksgiving day. 

***

A poem.

          A Night with My Eternal Beloved.

My beloved, thou majesty of the crescent moon

and large silvery stars fills every atom of my being.

I am without breath as the sky peacock and struts

its splendor striking notes like a moonlight sonata.

Thou creation of  large silvery stars is the light of

 the world. The world sees it not. Thou silence is

the salvation of the world. The world hears it not.

 Thou soft breeze is the aroma of the world.

The world smells it not. Thou rhythm is the heart

 of the world. The world feels it not. Thou

 moisture is the flavor of the world. The world

 taste it not. Thou pure Energy is the Mind of

 the world. The world knows it not. My love,

I'll surrender all things just for a moment to

 have a glimpse and have Thou break me,

soothe me,  purify me, and counsel me.

There is no greater love than to gaze upon

Thou large silvery stars, Thou crescent moon,

 and be one with Thou eternal Silence.

***

A poem.

                       A Walk in the Desert.

   My Love, Thou created a sacred place where space

 and time are silent, free from the debri of the world.

 I enjoy the wild stretch of white sand gracing the

               rolling hills and valleys of the desert.

   My Love, a place were my hair can be loosen and

 blow the dust from my cheeks, moist my lips from a

 gentle breeze, and sink my feet on the tapestry

                  of water washed sand.

    My Love, the sand is tranquil and desert plants

 flowers are in bloom. Thou creation enchants me,

 enthrals me. How does Thou create such beauty?

                  pink, lavender, sage, and yellow?

   My Love, I stretch out my arms to behold Thou

 and  embrace an horizon which struts as a peacock

                  of white, green, and blue skies.

  My Love, I am free in this special place. Thou

silence molds me and binds my energies to behold

Thou splendor. Thou's delicate perfume soothes me, 

                 whiffs of lavender and sage. 

The desert air calm and every rolling hill tucked are

at Thou's command. Today, I celebrate Thou's  paint

brush and splashing assortment of colors on white

canvas from Thou's palette,

                 pink, lavender, sage, and yellow.

 The desert so bare but so rich in color is Thou's

gift as my feet sink, step by  step, on Thou's tapestry

                   of water washed sand.  

                 Passion                               

My Love, I sit and meditate on Passion, 

asking, inquiring, groping, and seeking

not restricting and accepting tradition,

not deciding or taking an destination.

My Love,  Thou art merely a mirror;

to look clearly, ruthlessly, with intensity, 

not to dissolve miseries or anxieties,

or clinging to mere objects of  passion.

My Love,  I meditate on Passion,

is passion with or without a cause? 

is passion to be rich or to have fame?

to be well dressed and respectable?

reforming the world of its injustice?

attachment to a country and flag?

My Love, Thou art merely a mirror,

to look at passion from a world's view,

always has a cause for some fullfilment,

an act of contradiction and conflict,

striving, achieving, and recapturing,

a certain state related to the cause,

always an effect from lust object.

My Love, I meditate on Passion

a passion unrelated to a  cause;

therefore, it has not an effect.

Love, I assure is you,  is Passion,

a state in which there is "no me,"

Thou eternal  silence and bliss.

****************

Political - Social - Economic  12/13/2007

A  Poem

                            U.S.  Economic and Social decline                                    

              Facing  east sitting in a lotus a large black bird

               with a straight bill and long wedge shaped tail

               approach the middle arched window of  three.

               Large heavily built ; hair of glossy black color 

               a beauty of a creature claws sharp and curved

              come to understand; declare in an official visit to

             impose something unpleasant for twenty seasons

             a  decline of living standards; federal debt rising

             currency decline, foreign policy lacking fairness

             a victory for the glorious dragon from the East

             marked by richness; fullness of a distinct flavor  

             a smell of danger to impede the Eagle's domain

            of economic and social  progress of its peoples.

             Departing from the window of three; his wings 

            stretches; blankets four corners of the States 

            for twenty seasons an economic social decline

            undermining civil liberties: democracy at home. 

****

The sons of Abraham is a  poem about Abram and Sarai and the destiny of Abraham's two sons, Ismael and Isaac. How pious is Abram and Sarai and does nature favor Isaac opposed to Ismael? If so, where is the support of a *natural slave being a product of nature? 

*natural slave, a weak argument,  is a Aristotle concept. One may observe natural inequality, for example, such as  strength and intelligenc being products of nature, however, the natural slave is not a product of nature but established by convention  which relates and  causes differences in power and wealth.  The natural slave being a product of nature is a trick perpuated by the powerful  on the weak inorder to maintain their power and wealth.

       The sons of Abraham

          Ismael and Isaac                

Israel, descendants of Isaac possessed

harboring nuclear power from the west

under his spell a nation is impressed

empire of power and gold is his quest

to shield him from four corners of unrest

ironclad to preserve a race God professed

Israel, the illusionist so colorfully dressed

descendent of Isaac proudly self-professed

Ismael a wanderer of a nation distressed

first born of Abram a seed many detest

birthing babes from a concubine is a pest

this first son of Abram a unwelcome guest

a lower caste and dark skin is the blood test

his first son sent to the wilderness in protest

of a second son, a fair toned babe blessed

by a seed of Abram and Sarai’s zest

a promise fulfilled Isaac suckling breast

abandon his first born a nomad of unrest

multiplying into Arab nations unaddressed

to the world a nuisance and a second best

desiring resolution of sin and eternal rest

the descendants of Abram’s first born

a seed of endurance seeking a day of rest

to honor his father and mother and contest

the brother, descendants of Isaac, to confess

the sinful intent for the first son to dispossess

and atone the inheritance of a wedding chest

celebrating the birth of two sons and profess

sharing land and status of Abraham’s best.

 ***            

                                 Saudi

 Saudi, Saudi, the reservoir pressure

of your oil field is in steady decline.

Saudi, Saudi, the reservoir pressure

of  human abuse is a danger line

Saudi, Saudi, the reservoir pressure

of your reputation is in steady malign.

Saudi, Saudi, the reservoir pressure

the two entwined is a explosive design.

Saudi Arabia is the most restrictive government in the middle east. The freedom of expression, assembly, and association is a constant threat and an arrest by the police certain. Human rights defenders detained and forced to sign pledges to refrain from speaking to the media and cease any rights advocacy. Many of the estimated 8.8 million foreign workers face exploitative working conditions, including 16 hour workdays, no breaks, food, and drink. Locked in dormitories during their time off these workers are often at risk of serious abuse.

Women in Saudi Arabia continue to suffer from severe discrimination in the workplace, home, and the courts, and from restrictions on their freedom of movement and their choice of partners. The religious police enforce strict segregation and a women’s public dress code of head to toe covering. Women are excluded from weekly council meetings where senior members of the royal family listen to the complaints and proposals of citizens.

         PRINCE AL-WALEED  

The royal prince of Saudi Al-Waleed

a grasshopper leaping at great speed

a breath of fresh air for Saudi indeed

a bridge of east and west is his lead

ladies quietly praising his new creed.

A handsome prince Saudi Al-Waleed

shaking the kingdom of  false creed

a breath of fresh air for Saudi indeed

Ladies free from black cloaks is a need

equal reward of pay is Al-Waleed creed.

the royal highness  Saudi Al-Waleed

shaking customs from a mustard seed

a breath of fresh air for Saudi indeed

first lady pilot a new trend to proceed

Ladies incorporated the prince plead.

The royal prince of  Saudi  Al-Waleed

recite a verse from the Koran he read

a breath of fresh air for Saudi indeed

ladies must have equal rights to proceed

resolve economic difficulty the royal heed

The royal highness of Saudi Al-Waleed

Fitful burst of energy is his birth seed

a breath of fresh air for Saudi indeed

to spare the Kingdom from a devil’s weed

uniting Islam and modernity at God's speed

the solution for Saudi’s crisis to succeed

the falling of a downward Kingdom to recede

heeding to the common sense of Al-Waleed.

***                           

                              The Final Image                                       

How lovely is the hand which comforts me

and host my final visit on Earth.

Meticulous, the artist embalms and transforms

my flesh with the touch of his brush.

Like Rembrandt perfect in his craft

 a palette of paints on an easel

 and wide range use of colors is his mastery.

a dapple here and a dapple there

Hair washed richly lathered

a rinse with a sweet  fragrance  of strawberries

and  apple blossoms. 

tissues immersed  with tropical creams

thick translucent powder to mask the abrasion  

a spray mist to cover the face and neck

like a perfect veil.

Finger nails polished

toe nails trimmed

Lips outlined and having

 painted red as cherries

Hair dyed with henna and a shade of honey

Gracefully twined with baby’s breath 

Packed with herbs and spices  and  

anointed with  perfume extracted from  flowers, 

Body wrapped  in  fine linen  of lavender scent

Sprinkled with  a thousand  lotus petals

and a  garland of  water lilies.  

My loved ones bid me farewell

They have seen the image  so desired

Only a image but an image  forever

This final picture will be their comfort

To see me young once more

and my worn out body and face renewed

Like a new born babe, I sleep.

***

Celebration of Kama Sutra

In the still of the night, my love and I walk to the sea

to wash our bodies in its water by the Indian coral tree

After cleansing our bodies we arrive at the shore

preparing for love we search for a place to adore

of beautiful embrace we experienced long ago

as an artist should always be creative in its play

knowing that physical pleasure is not every which way,

It is like music, stirring the emotions,

quickening the senses, dissolving notions,

and thought into rhythm until only rhythm exist,

Kama Sutra is all energies in harmony persist

and mutual recognition of two liberties

giving and receiving pleasure, those abilities

to respect where love is not an object

but love as a revelation with all respect.

In that moment our love matures

and becomes a source of our cures,

sacred and lovely embracing infinity

makes the art of making love a divinity.

**

                   The myth of psychological evolution,

Humanity is not I or me

but a common sea

of consciousness truly perceiving

a complete illusion of achieving

spirit, soul, and ego permanent

a self, atman, and I attainment

accepting authorities and a promise

a quality of mind awakens, a Thomas

questions and examines boundaries,

the  outcome of intense inquiries

something comes into being

is rightfully  insightful seeing.

Heaven, paradise, and rebirth

is the I and me given birth

to invent psychological evolution

not being able to end it, a revolution

thought invents the notion of time

an ego concept that chime

the illusion of the I and me

is in reality one in humanity

Dying daily is your salvation

before death is the acceleration

to see thought as the inventor

of all the illusions and the center

of the operator of those illusions

seeing the many delusions

and the nature of the insight is right action

which is love, intelligence, and compassion.

***

The Eye of an Eagle.

Unlike the Eagle whose eye is clear

our species failed to revere

the raw relation to nature

and buffered into a closure

to access the primal root

our mind dull from pursuit

its envy, greed, and fear

to know the process is to clear

the illusion of psychological security

and fail to face the surety

that there is no purity

working the mind in obscurity

like a hammered nail

the mind prevails

as a anchor, never free 

 from its center it dare not to glee

it moves within the radius

urging a particular direction

to control the mind to perfection

to think along a certain line

a mind resign to decline.

Unlike the wild creature

the mind unresolved feature

a discontent and confused

a mind held in a pattern bruised

its very existence is the frame abused.

***

Only one hour to live

Only one hour to live

would you strive

to cleanse the mind

for being blind

to the desires

the world admires?

Only one hour to live

would you give

the mind a chance

to  glance the stance   

and put on the shelf

many parts of the  self?

***

  Evolved  from a star

Today, I  dance and whirl  on the mountain

to disperse the dust  from my earthly domain.

Arriving on the mountain the rising sun

in  orange arrays softly spun.

A small reddish Robin on its course

chirping a cosmic song in a vital force

singing and dancing joyfully flirting

clapping his wings gracefully spurting

imparting wisdom and knowledge

for us on Earth to acknowledge

our evolution, a creation  from a star

for to many it sound to bizarre

celebrating birth free from tradition

a rare disposition and a recognition

to diligently negate patterns of belief

such patterns of knowledge cause grief

the walls have fallen and chains broken

words of wisdom so soft spoken

from a star evolved  we are here

this message  full of cheer.

***

                        A religious mind

A religious mind is free from authority

It is extremely difficult for the majority

Not only the authority imposed by another

and authority one gathered of some other

which is of the past a mere tradition

a religious mind has no fixed mission

of shaping thought in further illusion

based on knowledge a hidden confusion

a limitation of the past, present, or future

born of memory, knowledge, and experience

trapped in the brain because of inexperience

seeking innovation opposed to creation

as a astrophysicist it finds a foundation

but fails to comprehend the formation

the total insight of a universe apart

from equation, a partial insight depart

the immensity and beauty of creation

not based on knowledge and formation

a product of time independent of creation

the "me" very limited, who fails  perceiving

the whole bundle of memories deceiving

Truth, the cosmic process of totally seeing

the relation of innovation and creation

a mutation in the brain  for salvation.

***

A Chattered Mind

The mind burdened and drowned by chattering

A mind burdened with innumerable experience

and memory, so marred and scarred by shattering.

The mind consciously and unconsciously battering

A healthy mind capable of seeing the abstinence.

A mind uncontaminated by a result of smattering.

A healthy mind is not mechanical nor flattering

a mind cultivated seeking comfort and allegiance

clinging to vain pursuit through memory adducing.

A healthy mind has no border, not acknowledging

politicians,saviors, newspapers, and assemblance

any beliefs is a margin of freedom adulterating.

The increasing slavery of the mind a quest of achieving

the mind stressed  wearing down the buoyance

a healthy mind in silence, a process of  awakening.

Meditation essential to Life and see things as they are

a deep inward comprehension of everyday existence

to be aware of this process of existence is observing

a healthy mind, at any age, is an  awakening.

***

The Error of the Mind

In silence I observe the error of the mind

Influenced all the time to think along

a certain line urging the mind in a particular

direction; in the deep unconscious the mind

shaped and controlled by tradition trapped

in a state of contradiction, the result of time.

A battlefield is the mind by the weight of time.

organized religion slimed the mind,

but now governments have taken the job

to manipulate and control the mind.

How eager the mind accepts a pattern  

weaving patterns is the opium maker.

Series of beliefs  is the quaker

seeking security knowing  there

is no such thing but the mind fails

to comprehend there is no security; the mind is

never free for it is does not dare not to

wander, and when it does, it is lost in dependence.

To be healthy there must be a transcendence

a revolt against conformity, against respectability

the establishment of the "me" influenced by religion,

government, and culture that is not you and me

but an "ourness" , a society in which happiness is possible.

The respectable mind is mediocre and a mind of  error.

Minds independent on influence for happiness is rarer

opposed to a mind that seeks approval from a neighbor,

a religious authority,  political actions, and authoritative.

A healthy mind not ritualistic and does not function from a

center of authority which is really the continuation of

tradition and the result of time.

To purge the error is to meditate the self centered grime

 the contamination by society, subjection to influence, 

 the pressure of desire this mind is completely alone, and

to be aware of the whole process of existence,  to

dispassionately enter into it, and to be free, is timeless.

knowing the process is freeing the error of the mind.

To be aware of this  existence is knowing dependence

observing the observer weaving patterns is the opium maker

Knowing the observer is the observed is freeing the error of the mind

***

Beethoven

nature in all its moods. The rustle of the wind,

the fine silvery stream, the raging of a waterfall,

A moist breeze and dew wet after a rainfall.

The energy and glory of his music transforms each One

Like a bolt of lightning equals the warmth of the Sun.

He shares his feeling of intoxication and exhilaration

a feeling beyond measure, a transcendent vibration.

In meditation, I listen to his music and find

nature in all its moods. Senses spellbind

mind intoxicated  looking at a country side

carpeted with thick green grass alongside

countless trees and flowers graced in fitful splendor.

His music awakens inner landscapes and surrender

the gloom warding off pain greeting the imagination,

seeing broad meadows and rock clefts is a elation.

In meditation I listen to his music, and find

nature in all its moods. Walking to unwind

on the elm-girt woodland paths a hawk

darted by a rock close to a tulip stock.

His music is like murmuring rushing brooks.

a joy, a passion not found in a thousand books.

Beethoven, an intellect moving into great depths

where all energies contact to master an in-depth

task of creating music of  beauty and perfection

To greet the imagination with  nature’s reflection.

****

The Beautiful Mind

The world is demanding so much

material satisfactions all a crutch

Failing to be aware of our condition

the mind conditioned in acquisition.

Humanitarianism does not alter

the consciousness of men but falter

a radical mutation in consciousness

Only a few  possess an alertness

To radically change, a psychological ending

demands of an unaware condition attending

ideological, political, and religious systems

the origin of fragmentation and problems.

The world is demanding so much

material satisfaction all a crutch

Failing to be aware of our condition

the mind conditioned in acquisition.

Only a few  possess an alertness

to deny authority, a quality of inertness

discarding the demands of the world

freeing the material and unfurl

A state of consciousness fragmented

a realization there is a me, a distorted

view of humanity, a conditioned courted

by a world in decay demanding so much.

The world is demanding so much

material satisfaction all a crutch

Only few have awakened

an intelligence re-awakened

Insightful of thought and time

freeing the mind from grime

A beautiful mind, a mutation

a possibility for our generation

To end the demand of the world

False promises of a dreamworld

after worlds or an other world

rejecting demands of any world

The world is demanding so much

material satisfaction all a crutch

Seeing the wisdom of nonconformance

is the beautiful mind in performance.

***

Contemplation: Memorial day is to meditate on the nature of war and all humanity who died because of war. The ultimate violence is the act of war, a psychological disorder, of humankind unable to mutate in consciousness.

Memorial day

Graves sprawl the lush green lawns

many soldiers rest used as pawns.

To serve freedom a prized ideology

the sum of all sorts of theology

the mind in war with mythology

a disorder of  man's psychology.

unable to see humankind as one

invents tools of war like a hired gun

to kill many with machine guns.

All this is a history in a rerun

How can this be undone

the vanity of hate under the sun?

the mind primitive must be undone

to stop the madness and be done

to end  massive bombing runs.

The mind not used as a pawn

to rest in the lush green lawn

is a mind awakened not one

not me, but one in humanity.

***

Psychologically the brain is unchanged. Our savage instinct for pleasure dominates the sport of bull fighting. Bull fighting? The bull is trapped in the arena. The matador has no chance to compete with the bull in his natural habitat. The  sport  is staged, a thirst for blood like the days of Ceasar and the gladiators.

                                Savagery of the Mind

                Thousands come to the arena tickets in hand

               to see the show and hail  a tradition long ago

             from Spain, a sport like  the days of Rome

            to demonstrate man's  control over the beast

            a matador enters the ring with a mighty sword

           taunting the beast, a bull, using his red cape

          a series of close  passes the  proud matador

          control over the beast trapped in the  ring

         the matador works with his cape and sword

        his savage being stabbs the beast for blood 

       boast his courage heading to the  roaring crowd

      hailing the gladiator shouting for more and more

     the matador stabs the bull through the heart

     standing clapping shouting  more more

    as the gladiator flows blood to show his might

    as a coward stabbing the beast more than twice

    trapped in  Ceasar's arena  and no place to go  

    stabb, "kill him", thirst for blood shouts the crowd

    dragged from the arena by three mules

   the beast, the bull butchered by a few

   behind the stadium and the roaring crowd

   sliced for meat and sold to carnivores

  to satisfy the savage of the mind.

IRAQ

The following poem is dedicated to the horrors of children sold because of extreme poverty. Extreme poverty and nationwide unemployment has pushed the parents to the edge, forcing them to make decisions once believed unthinkable.

The poem is about a father who found it difficult to let go of his daughter’s hand but he already had convinced himself that selling her to a family outside Iraq would provide her with a better future.His daughter, Fatima was sold to a Swedish childless couple for ten thousand, money he need to feed the other three children and wife. The father was fearful that all of his children would die without food in the camp. Because of desperation he sold his daughter and has to live with the guilt the rest of his life. Being a follower of Islam he deeply believes that he is now damned by God and his destiny is a fiery hell on earth and a slave to the Devil's domain on judgement day.

A poem dedicated:

 The Desperate Cry of a Father

In a tranquil district of Bagdad

a family with three robust sons

and one female child of mere two

as an outcast sent to the outskirts

the reminiscent of full corruption

a place consumed by large fires.

Hundreds of militia fighting fierce

claiming the street with a weaponry

disgracing the family root of five

living in an makeshift wood shack

loss of job and regular daily pay

unable to make the daily trek,

A man of respect now so disgraced

no permanent place, a vagabond

almost a corpse gradually rotten

bones soft, crumbly, to decompose

family of five, sons of robust seed

and tender young child of mere two

No gold silver to render a measure

a morsel of food or a drop of liquid

hunger pangs, a pain moving swiftly

The seat of unpleasant feelings

having no stomach for a fight,

sold the female child of mere two

Feeding the skeleton rusting faint

starved yielding into a submission

the skeleton holding the internal

a ghost of greatly reduced form

shadowy an image a faint weakness

Gaunt and lethargic the offspring

Once healthy and bubbling with life

sold the female child of mere two

to nourish the offspring gone weak

sold the female child of mere two

Gold and silver to render a measure

for a morsel of food and liquids

Drops to heal;gaunt and lethargic

ten thousand coins damned by God

like a pimp sold sweet innocence

a female child sweet and tender

suffering from inner unbalance

disrupting pleasant sensations

aching, and stabbing the heart

sold a female child of mere two

by a man of respect so disgraced

The soul in a large hellish place

being consumed by flames of fire

deeper each day the memories burn

Damned by God sold a beloved

to an empty childless womb

like a Tiger stalking  prey

a childless swedish predator

taking advantage of conditions

extreme poverty thin and bony

The female child tender of two

fetched from the fiery inferno

outcome of a predator’s sport

a score of a blossom plucked

tearing from a father's hand

her home the child of two knew

forever departs riding two wings

to a icy snow temperature place

a prisoner of the childless womb

for ten thousands pieces of silver

a gaunt and lethargic girl of two

sold as a gypsy concealed in a veil

covering the sins of a Judas father

shameful to disloyal the innocence

the toddler bids farewell forever

Bagdad, a place of historical pain

to a village by the Northern lights.

*************************************

A POEM DEDICATED

  There is no greater love than a mother's submission to evil knowing her child is cared for. In the poem evil unfold when a childless couple from the Netherlands seeks a baby in Iraq's refugee camps. Because of extreme poverty  knowingly the couple found a young woman in desperate need. Her husband killed in conflict, the wage earner, left her alone. The mother loved her baby so much that she adopted to the childless couple.

Soon; thereafter the young  mother relinguished  her will unable to cope starved her eighty pound frame to death.  As a muslim woman believing in Paradise she promised to carry out her role as a mother from a distance being a sheperd to her baby. Also, her husband would reunite with her in Paradise and together they would shepard their child on Earth. 

 IRAQ

 THE DESPERATE CRY OF A MOTHER 

Babe's through secret trickery

Suckling on her mother’s breast

Competing for tiny drops of milk

An empty breast drained of life

A mother, once bubbling of joy

In a tranquil people’s village

Curse her womb of blessed fruit

A victim of war between groups

Years of havoc wrecked by madness

Too faint to use a begging bowl

Ushered into an era of camps

A makeshift refugee village

Tents held up by thick poles

Ropes, pegs to keep in place.

Like a nomad in a distant past

Mats of straw woven into objects

Interlacing threads on a loom

Like a filament of a spider’s web

resting her babe on a bed of straw

Like a nomad in a distant past

To faint to wander for nourishment

Desperation is the Babe’s destiny

Suckling on her mother’s breast

Competing for tiny drops of milk

An empty breast drained of life

Morsels of food and drops of water

Decays the lining of the stomach

As a skeleton her comfort is straw

Thousands invade the people’s village

The housing of bacteria in the blood

Polluted by harmful unclean substances

Pestilence and an epidemic of diseases

Pushing parents to the edge of madness

Cursing her womb of blessed fruit

Torment in mind her madness propose

Ten thousand coins of silver and gold

A last resort and breath of salvation

Sparing the babe from empty breast

Competing for tiny drops of milk

A surrender to a happy childless womb

Far from the makeshift refugee village

A concentration camp under foreign rule

The babe’s salvation by Northern lights

A land of wholesome milk flowing honey,

My babe is given with true love and joy

To the childless couple of the North

As the mother takes her final breath

In her woven bed interlaced with straw

A skeleton of limbs of eighty pounds

A sigh of relief and submits to death

Knowing the babe is nourished and safe

adopted by loving parents of the North

Free at last from the havoc of madness

A foreign occupation misled and astray

Claiming the streets in the village

A once tranquil neighborhood of smiles

The mother embrace her stricken faith

And lays to rest dreaming of the babe

In the spirit world the mother laughs

Seeing babe in a land of milk and honey

in the kind loving arms of the couple

mother in triumph looks down to Earth

as a shepard watches her off spring

***********

A poem

                        The Arab League 

The Arab League gathered in the land of Pharaoh

Men in flowing long robes of fine cloth and  linens

Gnashing  teeth; pearly white concealed underneath

A trim mustache, beard, and many colorful turbans

This Arab League summed up courage from within

Condemning the holocaust of their neighbor brother

A siege to cut off all outside access to force surrender

Like a surge, a rush of sweeping forward and back

Crimes against humanity a siege of extermination

Botched by the united nations security council

inability to observe deceit of massive annihilation

From a proud people manifested as the chosen

Slaughters innocence flooding the Nile in thick blood

Massive deep wells used as graves a polluted stench

Foul lingering smell of rotted flesh, a decay of death

Infrastructure of physical remain collapsed, a loss

A holocaust against  a  Arab brother of the Gaza strip

Children of Ishmael, first born of the great patriarch

Slaughtered lambs of innocent human offspring

Babes in  swollen bellies  hidden with human dust

Ashes from  flesh scattered from the Gaza inferno

Large uncontrollable fiery fire full of corruption

Weeping children of Ishmael, first born of Abraham

Birthing death is the fate at the hand of Israel.

Israel, Israel thou day has cometh for a sure demise

Arab League of nations witness a hellish inferno

Brutal crimes by the descendants of Sarah’s first

Second Son of Abraham, Isaac, a fair skin brother

Violating international and humanitarian unfit laws

A pretense of peace efforts the comedy of Annapolis

A façade to the world like a carnival: a Mardi Gras

Costumes, parades, balls, and festivities to entertain

Ideas and propaganda of corporate media to amuse

A peace treaty of a two state, a resolution proposed

A complete halt to settlement housing and activities

Sparing Jerusalem and establish a Palestinian State.

Courageous are the sons and daughters of Ishmael

Stand affirm and demand many over due rights

A challenge and ability to take a stance of might

justice and truth is the Arab's  crown and reward

The carnival of Annapolis and smiles are gone

Seriousness of national unity and consequences

Responding to the Arab efforts is the final stance

To halt extreme meanness; deliberately malicious

The rules of the game and laws have been broken

Honesty and moral integrity is at highest stake

Re-consider and yield the land held  for sixty years

Hear ye Israel