Long Right hand Poems
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I sit there on that wooden bench, simply sitting. I am not waiting for someone, not for anything. Sunlight peeks through the leaves of the two oak trees whose branches are mingling above my head. It is pleasant to feel its warmth. There is no reason for me to be outside other than the cigarette resting between my middle and index fingers. I walked down three flights of stairs to simply sit and smoke and be judged by the occasional passersby. I lift the cigarette to my lips and place it there gently. It sort of dangles there as I light the lighter in one hand and cup the other around the flame to protect it from a nonexistent breeze in the dry Southern heat. I suck in, trying to puff, which is hard to do without a hand to steady the cigarette, but it is lit and that is what matters. I take a deep drag, deep into my lungs, deep into my soul, and I can feel the calm wash over me. The nicotine is my oxygen; I can’t breathe without it sometimes. I blow the smoke out, admiring its delicious taste and scent. I like to hold the slowly smoldering cigarette in my right hand and then smoke out of the left side of my mouth. The way I hold it makes me look like a nineteen-forties gangster. I like that. Sitting there, on my wooden bench, I react. I don’t moan in ecstasy and I don’t close my eyes in pleasure. I don’t take it for granted and I don’t have a habit. I just enjoy my cigarette, no more and no less than it ever should have been. As it slowly converts itself into smoke and ashes I think to myself that most people probably wonder why an eighteen year old in this day and age would choose to take up smoking. At least I assume that is what the occasional passerby must be thinking when they see me sitting here on this wooden bench, for no other reason than to smoke the cigarette in my hand right now. I wonder what I would say if any one of them ever bothered to ask me. Because I want to, I would reply before standing, putting out my cigarette, and walking away. I look down and see that if I took another drag I would be smoking the filter. So I stand, put out my cigarette, and walk away. I walk away from the sunlight, from the two oak trees, and that wooden bench. I walk away with my fingers smelling like nicotine and that makes me smile because I know that I will sit at that wooden bench tomorrow to do the same exact thing. I know because that is what I did yesterday.
From the heart of green naïve village
surrounded by corps field, mosque, ponds,
ancestral grave yard, school, college,
madrasah (islamic school) etc he is
brothers, sisters with parents, a beautiful family
with relatives, neighbors he had
learned person he was, full memorizer of
the Holy Quran and institutional study was 10th grade
but dreams touched his eyes, his breaths, his veins
the dream in the hollow eyeballs of him
flaring dreams have been gathered in his sight
dreams touched his ideality, his mediocrity, his learning
against the holy verse
dreams touched him inseparably
dreams touched him within vain clothing
dreams touched him within flirting industrialist mind
dreams touched him within merciless sky scraper building
dreams touched him within fake benevolent charity right hand
dreams touched him abortive assurance giving to others in generosity smiling
dreams made him blind to the path of income
small income once made up him happy with family and relatives
but leaving small, come to big on the lame stretchers dreamy boat
he did not understand- dreams in lazy hands is
misfortunate hell for upcoming every steps
dreams made him luxurious ambitious as
the begging bag before learning how to beg
dreams made him laughter in garrulous argument
as happiness of billionaire under torn blanket
in biting cold winter dreamy night
dream made him foolish dandy in business world
as Xerox machines copying activities
which has no personality to make another root
to survive with it as parasite
dreams made him passerby the dark path
dreams made him lonely walker
dreams made him lonely resident on title-less building of hill view
dreams made him unknown religious in the eye view of unfamiliar him
dreams made him a dark horse in flattering broker world
dreams made him hilarious land lord in his verbose copying documents
dreams made him a beggar in heavenly real eyes of the sun,
crystalline day approved him he was dreamer only
from the dreams he made his journey to be great
benevolent helper of relatives and neighbors
he was dreamer but in paralyzed bone and indolent veins
and this dream awakens him in tears of mysterious death
(Written on my Maternal Uncle Hafez Abdul Allam 4th July 1962-29th July 2018, who was inactive but great dreamer, but sudden death of him makes us heart rending cry)
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared bt not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
The pastor feared for many years once upon learning who I am.
A gift to the world sits in the palm of my hands.
For good or for evil, its up to me to decide.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
Before the death of my sister, you told me I would have to choose.
I chose my familia then my heart forever became brused.
You went away from my dreams then only came back once my heart became cold.
You reached out your hand yet I only turned it away.
Fighting wars in my dreams of unknown beings.
Voices in my head and visions of unusual seeings.
Picked up the Bible yet only learning of its hidings.
Secerts of a World thats so blind to many.
When someone speaks no one listens.
When the voice up lifts then everyone begins to focus.
Against a belief thats much stronger then our own can leave a person breathless.
I lay down a pad then pick up a pen but my hands refuse to let me write.
Stand in front of a croud to speak of our World but my voice is silence.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
You told me respect will be high because of the gift I offer.
You told me I wouldn't have to struggle anymore all I have to do is take your hand.
Walk with you like how I once did with Jesus.
Talk with you like I prayed to God.
Not to bow to your feet but lift out my hand for you to kiss as we bow to each other.
Sit on the right hand side of the thrown.
To have power greater then the World can image.
A new lyfe where you wouldn't have to hope and dream.
You promised me my revenge on the cruel will come.
You promised my my oppinons will be a factor.
No more crying at night because of hunger pains.
Or familia betrayal.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear
Form:
"Bat Crazy 5"
Some say
she was batsh** crazy
life hits the windscreens
in the labyrinth of life
that way
the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick
an upwards inflection, “You know”,
in the Queen’s Land, "all under control"
the open palm under the shaft
moving all the way up to 5,
reflecting on the mirror rearview
she watches the eyes
of her child
dreaming of open highways
the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick
never once moving from 5
the left all the way up to targa 5
right hand up on the wheel
left hand down right up to 5
windows spitting emeralds
like a baphomet
the two finger salute
the other above so below
watches on
"here we go again",
the 1 above it all
watches on
as above so below
that 1's long-suffering
that way, aghast, but resolute,
that 1 has never-ending reserves
of eternal patience
and watches on
perplexed
her mind geared on
how to kill off
a spider
and his sister, next
changing lanes
easier said than done
when you're hell-bent on
Freedom
the highway sign
Happy New Year
flashes ever onwards by,
foot to the floor
left brain baffled
at forgiveness
at Christmas
long gone by
right hand on the wheel
left hand down
open palmed
shifting gears
accelerating increduality
towards the accuracy
in the justice of karma
drivers sitting on both shoulders
inside the vehicle
holding the wheel
the internal speaks
to the universe
listening
for kindness
and answers
on a lost highway
Blue Sky
nods, as if in agreement,
that 1's always amused -
but never confused, that way
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“Is it possible to switch dimensions?
There is currently no conceivable way to get to these if they exist, and they may only be possible, not actual. To travel between realities, they need to be in proximity. To be in proximity and not interact, they need to be incompatible. If it is a compatible universe you could travel to, it is already here.”
"Won’t you let me know,
if you made it home that night
Oh won’t you let me know
If our bones made it home alright..."
I swung with a vengeance but missed that damned fly
The breeze I’d created caused him to pass by
My electric racquet in underarm mode
Still failed to make that bluebottle explode
It filled me with hate as it buzzed round my plate
I swung and I swung and became more irate
That foul little demon was soon to be dead
As soon as it took itself off of my head
Now, I’m not a coward in anyone’s book
But I’m in no hurry to smell my brain cook
I angled my zapper to strike as it rose
And almost set fire to the tip of my nose
It flitted at speed like a Pac-Man on heat
But I am a human… I will not be beat
My dinner was cooling and it wasn’t salad
I’ll murder that fly and then write me a ballad
Overarm, underarm, back-hand and flip
My energised racquet was firm in my grip
At one point it landed on chandelier-high
And I had to wave that light fitting goodbye
My sausage was cold (can we please keep this clean)
And I had become a fly killing machine
A back somersault and a cartwheel or two
My electric racquet had flashed neon blue
Poor little Tiddles, she trusted me so
Her recuperation has some way to go
But I’ll give her cuddles and snuggles and then
I dearly regret that I zapped her again
Twas kinda Dick Whittington, but in reverse
Tiddles left home and I don’t know what’s worse
My poor little kitten is out on her own
But that demon-fly is at rest on my phone
How great the temptation to say what the hell
And batter that fly and my iPhone as well
But then it took off and it sped through the air
I swung and I swiped and set fire to my hair
Okay I confess; just a few hairs got singed
But I don’t have many and that’s why I whinged
In anger I swiped at the sound of its hums
Which came close to giving me two deep fried plums
How bloody long can a bluebottle live
My electric racquet and I cannot give
Yet more gymnastics to vanquish our foe
As I shoot some volts through my right hand big toe
I whirled like a dervish and now on a mission
I swung like a thing that had infra red vision
But, boy, did I cheer at the quiet little ‘phut!’
As that fly took a window to find it was shut
***
But now I feel guilty for I’ve done okay
Though I don’t know who saw me swinging away
I owe my new job to that small airborne menace
My local school wants me to teach the kids tennis
Clouds spiral down and curl around to touch me
—not those western drizzle shrouds
baring a soul of misery mizzle
...though I adore a good wallow in sorrow —no
these clouds come from yonder bluebird wilds
white cirrus wispy and whispery dance around me
I steal one to wear across my shoulders
like a platinum’s blonde’s faux stole
they come to me like papier-mâché angels —no no
that’s too cliché… and passé for I’m far beyond
the Godly touch of angels… hmm.. they come to me
like a lover —no too easy …like a heartbreak-er lover!
yah I’ll go with that and get a taboo tattoo of his name
anyway the clouds they find me where I stand
dissatisfied with being satisfied
the result of my cool cat face seduction
I wear a crimson bee balm boutonniere
display it on my plunging V lapel but
it attracts wasps instead of honey bees; I find
danger brings a secret pleasure to my displeasure
my leopard print pants (red sky colored)
stirs sir knight with his bridled gaze and walking stick
he watches my next move on the chessboard
tries to guess my breezy strategy
my hands behind my head legs crossed
maybe it’s a white crested ocean I'm floating on
—or wrestling with— either way
I’m here to play and paint a displeased scene
watercolors? they’re just transparent hues
applied to my white background
depending on the mood of my mood ring —but
when acrylics bleed it’s harder to see the scene
colors escape their space creating a slurry
of what is where where is when when is why
and why don’t know why ..what?! but I know how
blurry lines take on a life of their own
and shapes a new fate from ‘no gesso’ mistakes
I could switch my style to snarly tiger stripes today
and gladly take that horse-headed knight down
that wooden old guard has new orders
he’s suspicious of me scrutinizes me
but only half as much as I’m used to
his right hand on his monocle
—the other eye blind
just beyond the reach of his walking stick
I free my torso of its purple grapevine corset
uncinching my fake waisted form —I muse
if my time as a wastrel was wasted or invested
oh …the monocle is telescoping me again
I shimmy lose my butterfly wings
slap him as I flap them and fly away
it’s hard to know if I’m still beautiful
or if I’m just broken
—either way I embrace the rainy side of the rainbow
happily discontent
[Verse]
I got cayenne in my coffee
and I served it up myself
I mixed it up with the cinnamon
and it sure woke up my mouth
You kept me up all night again
but only in my dreams
it seems you are not done with me
so 5th dimension is the only means
[Chorus]
Life is truely different
when you open your third eye
It takes on different meanings
when you stop sorting with pride
realize you are always a student
and the lessons are served up
be eager to get on with it
and for your next glow-up
[verse]
Whatever your dust-up
get up, do it
just get to it
life marches on
you get used to it
I am here if you choose
and this won't ever go away
and it will always be this intense
that's the twin flame way
Spiritually awake
you can now explore
and unexpected lessons
will show up at your door
I did not start it
I am merely a catalyst
my job here is as teacher
the divines right hand
I show up when needed
and in divine time
but a glow-up is needed
for us to combine
You have to match my energy
You have to be on my verve
you gotta have some game
gotta gotta gotta have that nerve
AH, AH, AH, AH OHHHH
[verse]
I did not create this script
it comes from up there
we live to level up
or we get left in the dust
We keep coming back
to the drawing board
and presented the same lesson again
till its like we are bored
You gotta gotta have that nerve
you have to have verve
you have to match my energy
you gotta have some game
[verse]
Whatever your dust up
get up, do it
just get to it
just get to it
just get to it
just get to it
I am here if you choose
to get up do it, just get to it
life marches on
you get used to it
I am here if you choose
and this won't ever go away
and it will always be this intense
that's the twin flame way
and it will always be this intense
that's the twin flame way
Spiritually awake
you can now explore
and unexpected lessons
will show up at your door
will show up at your door
I did not start it
I am merely a catalyst
my job here is as teacher
the divines right hand
I show up when needed
and in divine time
but a glow-u is needed
for us to combine
You gotta get to it
gotta get down an do it
get on it
just do it
do it
comon - just do it
do it, do it, do it, do it YEAH!
[music fades]
It was you from the moment I seen you.
I knew in my heart I would be the one to rescue you, but in the end you ended up saving me.
I see in your eyes the pain that lingered inside.
From your past relationships your pride was on cloud nine.
My theory was to put your fears aside.
You feel like I am like all the rest, so you continuously put my love through a test.
Why won’t you let me love you?
My love is a virtue, forever lasting external statue.
It was you my handcrafted imbue tattoo I cling to.
If you only knew how I truly feel about you.
I was sculpted only for you my sahib, I am your rib.
You’re a reflection of me desperately wanting love, but scared of the many risks that come with it.
Love should have come with an asterisk.
You’re my only weakness causing infectious affection.
It was your personality that spoke volumes to me, showering me with chivalry.
Persistency kept me where I wanted to be.
Let me be the one you need, all you need is faith as tiny as a mustard seed.
Abundantly this love will be an adjustment for you, and me.
If you should have a nightmare just know I will be there.
If you’re hurting and need to cry, I will be the one to wipe your eyes.
For my love only identifies.
I fell in love with you, not for the things you’re able to do.
It was simply you…
If you should happen to get laid off work, I will be the one standing in the door.
The only one you brace oneself for.
Your personal landing gear, I am whole heartily sincere.
I will be your rocking chair.
If the time comes and you begin to lose your hair, baby I will be your favorite barber chair your personal concierge.
It was you that introduced your love voodoo.
Only wanting you timeless déjà vu.
You made me love you; you are my lifetime band aid.
Now let me be your brigade, your right hand grenade.
You’re forever nursing aide.
The sharpest in your drawer knife blade.
The one and, only ace of spade your jack of trades.
Equivalent to money your love is symbolic.
A polished rocket you’re extraordinary, and solid.
Biologic process but simply flawless.
If I am getting off topic I might be losing conscious.
Thinking of you makes me forget my surroundings.
My heart starts pounding echo sounding.
I automatic start smiling, it’s simply astounding.
You knew it has always been you.
It was you.
You're walking out the front entrance
Leaving work behind you
Forgetting the hustle of the day
Looking forward to a quite drink
Chilling out
In your
Soft
Comfy
Favourite
Chair
Staring into an open fire
Being carried away with the beat of the music
When all of a sudden
You're startled
By the thundering crackling
Sound from the exhaust
Of a oversized shinny motor bike
A leather cladded rider dismounts
Blocking your path
As you stand stunned & glued to the spot
The rider comes up to your face
Through a tinted visor on a black helmet
You hear a soft gentle familiar voice saying
Put this on and let's go
All your fears flash in front of you
But your censors say your safe
You allow this gentle giant
To carefully place the open face helmet over your head
Slowly secure it under your chin
Hands you some wrap around sun glasses
Without a word
The rider shows you how to
Comfortably mount a bike
Indicates you to wait until he is on
Gives you the nod
As you mount the bike
Cuddle into the rider
looking over his right shoulder
Smelling & feeling the leather on your bare skin
As you clasp your hands together
Around the stomach of the rider
The bike starts
Startled by the noise you jump
And thrusted back as we take off
Slowly through the main street
Slow down even more for the school zone
Swerving
Swaying
Dodging
In and out
Of the afternoon traffic
Leaving the bottle neck behind
With the confusion and worry
Hitting the open road
Winding the throttle wide open
The purring of the pipes
Echoing off on coming cars
The thumping of the motor
Rising up through the seat
The wind caressing your face
As we brake hard and throw
The bike down into a left hand lean
Around the corner in one motion
Pick the bike up and throw down
Into a right hand corner
Dancing
Up
Down
And around
Up the hill onto the flat
Surrounded trees
The afternoon sun strobing through the trees
Behind the trees
In the paddocks
Prancing
Dancing
Meres and foals
Back into town
Where I stop at your place
I dismount
Extend my hand to help you off
Lovingly remove your helmet
Tie it on the sissy bar
Jump on the bike
With a crack from the pipes
The engine roars
Burning the tar with my back tyre
Leaving you standing in the cutter
Dumbfounded
Bewildered
Tingling
Laughing and smiling
Jesus is the great high priest
who ministers before God's throne
on behalf of the elected redeemed
being the believer's chief cornerstone
The priests in the past stood daily
offering sacrifices for sin forever
but these failed to deal with sin
only the perfect high priest could deliver
Jesus made Himself the perfect sacrifice
by one offering His own are sanctified
what a picture this conveys His grace
this Jesus gave Himself as He died
This great high priest makes intercession
for those He redeemed by His blood
so those can draw near with a true heart
full of faith like a great flood
What a privilege we have been given
to have such a great high priest
Jesus our saviour is seated at God's hand
eternally on our case never to cease
(Hebrews 10:8-18
Modern English Version
8 Previously when He said, “You did not desire sacrifices and offerings. You have had no pleasure in burnt offerings and sacrifices for sin,” which are offered in accordance with the law, 9 then He said, “See, I have come to do Your will, O God.” He takes away the first that He may establish the second. 10 By this will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.
11 But every priest stands daily ministering and repetitively offering the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. 12 But this Man, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins forever, sat down at the right hand of God. 13 Since that time He has been waiting for His enemies to be made His footstool. 14 For by one offering He has forever perfected those who are sanctified.
15 The Holy Spirit also witnesses to us about this. For after saying,
16 “This is the covenant that I will make with them
after those days, says the Lord:
I will put My laws into their hearts,
and in their minds I will write them,”
17 then He adds,
“Their sins and lawless deeds
will I remember no more.”
18 Now where there is forgiveness of these, there is no longer an offering for sin.
21 and since we have a High Priest over the house of God, 22 let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse them from an evil conscience, and our bodies washed with pure water. 23 Let us firmly hold the profession of our faith without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.)