Best Brining Poems
Sometimes I can be really insistent: standing on one leg, brining my hands in prayer, dressed only in the four sides of the world, I remained silent and a nutmeg was my only food. Centuries passed, the lake on which I stood went dry and filled up with water again, ants erected an anthill around me but I kept staying focused, thinking of him. That’s how I gained his blessing. One fine morning, tired, anthropomorphic, he finally showed up and asked me:
why did you call me poet
what is you desire
and I said I want nothing
Once upon a time, a dream was a dream.
locked up in my mind, left cold and unseen.
Years have passed many a moon,
night-n-gales whistled many a tune.
...and the stars swing low through the midnight glow
...and the angel sings as she folds her wings
...and all these memories draw back these dreams.
Some of new and some of old,
some of coals and some of gold.
The work, the play of each new day,
The sun that sparkles or the clouds of gray.
Who knew that dreams come when you pray?
From the first breath to the last breath,
and the ones in between
bring you lines of joy
like the sweet wine that is aging.
My maker says "reason" with me,
He has called me out by name.
Leading me where there is no sorrow,
brining me home where there is no pain.
I painted your heart today
anatomically correct and expectation abstract,
on canvas skin of stretched soul, taut extreme,
mixed media of memory, mania,
love fire and ire,
mixed disciplines of desire, devotion,
death and divinity,
Primed with a thick coating
of blood cream passion,
I used my thumb nails to outline
It's pump of pride,
I began with a pallette of poetry,
Midnight Blue, Angel White,
and Crimson Ink Sweat,
shaping muscle walls with palms
sliding through wet ache
brining together youth and wisdom
in hot pink,
I lay your veins enroute to the truth
of our pulse,
they glow violet in vast want
of virtue uncriticized,
purple oxygen and new born orange
unite into fresh flame
dancing on a breath of forever,
I bite a star into existence
and it shimmers into a simmer
of heated spit,
I have brushed your heart
into love incognito,
fine hazel sable tip tickling contours
that expand consciousness
into renewed innocence,
I can hear your laughter on the edge
of my pallette knife,
sighs that speak of heartbeat ecstacy,
and moans that mention the end of Time,
I trace our names
with my barbarous tongue
into the blood flow of our destiny,
heart dripping dreams,
spilling secrets into Future's wilderness,
using my sorrow sharpened teeth
and hands of tender iron,
I rip this heart work in half savagely,
and it bleeds unto the feet
of my need for You,
I frame the parts
within gilded tears of tragedy,
to reimind me of how love suffers,
a torn canvas makes two paintings,
that a heart in love cannot be two -
J.A.B.
Yesterday's promise was today would be tomorrow
But on dawning discovered tomorrow
Became another today
The time has gone, not recovered
Brining a great deal of sorrow
Is there a point where tomorrow
Will become a yesterday
THE FOUR SEASONS
Spring is the season that many love best
Of things to come and thoughts of the worst gone
With many an old favourite plant reappearing now
And a great deal to ponder over and to select, perhaps to buy
A new freshness in the air for all to feel and enjoy
Summer we find the heat that’s graved by all
Delicious smells of the wood smoke of the barbeque
Competes with the fragrance of the most beautiful flowers
Colours so varied in the garden, flags, awning’s and chairs
What such a delight to sight and senses we have
In autumn the colour palate changes again
To gold, red and brown and the many stages in between
A delight to the artistic eye, along with beautiful a sky
Evenings grow cooler and we wish they would not
And though we know it’s about to change we would rather it not
Winter comes in with quite a shock, rain and wind and many a gale
It grows so much colder, so snuggle around the fire under the comfy blanket
Roasting ourselves and toasting the crumpets for our tea
But the one bright and happy thing in this season is Christmas
Brining many a dreamy smile and happy laugh in this blustery time of year
7-4-2016
Here comes my father;
“Sheikh Al-Arab.”
My mother made him, also, tea with milk and “gargoosh.”
Now, time to fill “al-azyar” (water clay-containers);
They are under the two huge trees in front of our house.
Their waters are “sabeel,” for everyone passing by;
Might be going to, or coming from, Moslab’s boat.
Might be going to, or coming from, Dirar’s shop.
“Sheikh Al-Arab” fills “al-azyar” from the “toromba” (water-pump).
His children are glad to help;
Excited by the “toromba”:
Its handle makes a musical sound as it goes up and down.
Its water is clear.
And it beats brining water from the Nile.
---------
Here goes Abdul-Hameed;
Leaving to his farm.
Riding his old weak gray donkey;
Holding his lunch bag.
Probably bread and dates;
Probably hard-boiled eggs;
Probably leftover from last night dinner.
He already had breakfast;
His wife made him, also, tea with milk and “gargoosh.”
The donkey’s lunch will be grass from the field
The donkey’s lunch will be fresh.
---------
Here comes Nafeesa;
Leaving the “zareeba” (animals’ shelter).
Today, her goats were generous;
Lots of milk.
Her husband and children are waiting;
Time for tea with milk and “gargoosh.”
Her dog accompanied her to the “zareeba”;
And back from the “zareeba.”
But, no tea, no milk, and no “gargoosh”;
Probably an old bone.
Only when Nafeesa’s husband slaughters a lamb;
“Kibda” (kidney) for breakfast.
And lots of meat for everyone.
And for the dog.
And for other village’s dogs.
---------
Here comes Widad and her four children;
Carrying one, and three behind her.
They are going to “jiddo” (grandfather);
They will all have tea and milk and “gargoosh.”
“Jiddo” is waiting and it is getting late;
Widad will feed them all
They walk hurriedly in the dirt street;
Dust arises behind them.
Two children walk barefoot;
The lucky third has old slippers.
Two children wear few clothes;
The lucky third looks better.
“Jiddo” is waiting; more speed; more dust.
---------
Here comes Khadeeja;
The little thin girl, carrying a plate.
She is going to Zahra’s house;
Zahra makes “zalabiya” (fried dough balls).
There will be Zainab, Alawiya, and Fatima;
All sitting on the ground, around the “saj” (big wood-fire fry-pan).
All almost sleep;
All patiently waiting;
Zahra’s “zalabiya” is cooking.
---------
(to be continued) .....
I’m flooded with thoughts; rain couldn’t wash away my tears.
Pain has over ran me, though it doesn’t control me.
It’s not a win or lose situation, I am lost, unguided and left blinded, uncertain of the right path to take. Leaving me to be the perfect human; making many mistakes.
I have thoughts with high hopes to leave them forgotten as I have. A powerful part of me told me to walk away; My Heart isn’t able to express the correct words to say the things that I need, or the proper times to what I have been feeling. I’m having trouble understanding why I have been feeling this way. Another emotional state that has me focused on deeper thoughts forced with blurred visions of her walking, displaying her up lifting smile, it’s hard for me to awaken from my day dreams; she once touched me, brining me back to this reality. Hugged and held me tight without the time to react, knowing this was a beautiful mistake and I would never trade it even if it meant the pain would stop. I held her closer.
Anyone can say that they understand, I’m left with my own UN judgmental thoughts of this situation. I know what I’m feeling; I know the meaning to my own questions even without the answers. I was left with them for a reason, to embrace my mistakes no matter how beautiful.
The river, the giver of life
The river, the giver of time as we know it
Volumes of history on my shelves
Offer dark pictures
when one delves
into the records of the past
So I'll watch, the river, the giver
as it brings
life to us all
The river, the giver
brining home peace
The river, the giver
as it flows past our home
the river , the giver
make it your own
winter is upon us, and its that time of year
winter gets you down, as darkness closes near.
bringing in the cold, dark and the blues,
ice on all the roads, and slippery on your shoes,
fuel bills up through the roof,
and money very tight,
temperature,s dropping
making day turn to night,
where is all the sunshine gone as all we get is rain,
brining in the coldness that makes your body in pain,
cold on your fingers, and on your ears to,
the long night of winter, sure does bring the blues,
i remember the coal fire,
the sparkled in the dark,
now we got gas heating,
thats took away the spark,
watching all the snow falling,
that makes things look so bright,
all the snow is really doing
is covering up the ice,
standing alone and look to the stars,
wondering how long
this winter will last,
maybe a week or a month or two,
wish winter would go as makes me blue,
roll on the sunshine
as gives us heat,
instead of me being here,
with very cold feet,
got myself a red nose
as temperature,s drop so quick,
this cold air going in my lungs
makes me feel so sick,
waking in the morning,
wondering if its day or night,
want to stay in bed, till a see some light,
the winter brings the blues,
as this we do all know,
wish winter would go away
so i can feel my toes,
looking at the robins
that are sing in the tree,
this brings a little smile,
till the coldness hits me,
making me start to shiver
and feeling very down
my nose is o so red,
i look like a clown .
only a few more weeks to go,
or so the weather man said,
i can not wait till winter goes,
till then i will stay in bed,,,,
Leafraker, was deep and insightful
Though through his woe, one can be spiteful
To drag his body from the depths
And succeed beyond that of the flesh
So, too he joins in mans defeat and the dawn of anew
Grasping hold of the light as darkness acts in que
The autumn leaves are a sign of a coming winter
But hark in the coming joy! For with earths fire is tinder
A conclusion, climax, end, and final adieu
Speaks of the history of a separate story starting like you
Birth!
From the great mother, her bosom springing
A new species adjusted like Darwin’s singing!
The dead leaves shrivel and crumple underfoot!
But so to fire creates ash to pock grainy soot
As prelude does not one enjoy the coming of?
The brining about that comes from action and love?
The love of the here and now as Joseph Campbell spoke
Eternity exists with every now provoked
The fields of leaves abound ever acre in scores
but all creatures must attend to this for more
Whether hiding from beast or building an empire with decay
Others growing underneath battling the colds parley
A party exists for what gain? Only to happen again and again
Composer’s notes yield a pause only and refrain
The leafraker is a symbol of change my friend
A semblance of the spring of that’s is rapture like the wind
I say to you under starry sky tonight
Focus on what you can attain with every flicker of the light
But do not sadden when your book is at an end
Look to the new world that exists in your mind to begin
Spark! The light does reign in but wobble under a black hole
So too does the leafraker as new seasons take hold
Speak to me? For when it is spoken it came into being!
--10/18/08 in response to stimuli
THE Big Con of a Peace Prize
And there they are the leaders of EU receiving
a prize they do not deserve, the only thing they
have rescued are banks and the people are
paying the price. I´m listening to Barroso, he who
abandoned the premiership of Portugal when he
was offered better paid job in Brussels and left
the country to its own devise.
Millions of unemployed people lines stretching
for miles, Barroso says everything is fine while
Tucking into caviar when not speaking f Europe
in a fake upper class English voice and sounds like
a servant, of a big house, with great ambition.
And now they are brining, in Kosovo, a gangster
led country to complete the skullduggery .
the EU is a capitalist construction that gives them
security to exploit people. The people of Europe
have been betrayed by their leaders and I know
when a man speaks with fork tongues the game is
up… a democratic EU is a good idea but it has
been betrayed by the elite…the prize giving in Oslo
is a disgrace, they couldn´t even stop the war in
the Balkan with US A´s help. So let them dance when
Europe goes hungry.
I have felt everlasting bliss.
With beauty so uniquely rare,
a thousand glances; I do stare.
Stealing my soul with just one kiss.
She doesn’t understand the spell,
she’s woven and crafted so well.
Her laughter sends my heart amiss.
Brining joy to my fruitless life,
a dancing heart without the strife.
How can one being cause such this?
A sphere of complex emotion,
entwined with love and devotion.
Our days of youth daughter, I’ll miss.
As you reach higher for the stars,
know the universe is still ours.
What did I ever do to you?
Why are you treating me like this?
I thought we had a connection, but I guess everything had to go your way.
Whats your problem? Why are you so stuck in your in ways?
I dont know what it is about you,but I just cant stay away.
Its like every time I leave you keep brining me back. It seems as if your a curse of
love and your love is the love that is killing me softly.
Theres nothing i can do to stay away but i know if i don't go my
heart and my love for you and me will be no more. I just want to be friends.
Tell it to me quickly,
now tell it to me fast,
I'm running out of time,
and these moments never last.
I'm not hallucinating,
I'm not turning this page,
until I find somebody
to justify my rage.
I'm tired of your reasons,
I can't resist the urge,
I long for self-destruction,
my lungs to smoke and burn.
It was just a little detour,
A youthful man's mistake,
not something brining cancer
to a man at twenty-eight!
Midnight, red light, skin tight,
and I'm flying
Clean days, no haze, life fades
And I'm mad.
Not broken, not bowed
But I have no patience,
Longing again for what
I must have.
You say to find a middle path,
but you're so full of it!
How can a man walk down a road
that never truly fit?
Never bought all your transcendence,
your talk of love and gods,
either I'm truly missing something,
or it really is a fraud.
I guess I'll never know now,
you doctors say I'm screwed,
you saw slowing it all down
is the least that I can do.
So four months is what you give me
before my time to die,
but if that dark train is a-coming
it won't matter what I try!
Midnight, red light, skin tight,
and I'm flying
Clean days, no haze, life fades
And I'm mad.
Not broken, not bowed
But I have no patience,
Longing again for what
I must have.
The needs and wants
that freedom flaunts
so worth the heavy penny
for all the cost
of each battle lost
reminds me of the horn of plenty
in which the air of our fathers fair
was one of giving and sharing
now all I see are broken tendencies
in a society running low on the caring
I feel you there, American air
with your promise of tomorrow’s greatness
you an asylum for dreams
brining such finer things
that your vast pools of knowledge awakens
To touch and feel, a feeling so real
as the image burnt into my mind
you open your mouth
words fail to come out
when your lost, jailed and confined
Can you remember, the cold of September
when hate flew straight into our towers?
they could not break
the strong will and fate
once freedom spread it’s wings of power
The roar of the lion
the grace of the eagle
never gave way
to the corrupting evil
no, taller we stood
as the way people should
ever put to the test
and the love that we share
through our American air
why settle, when soaring
at our best.