Saracen princess,
Blackened corridors bathed in honey hold you in high esteem as you dance in flickers, eyes raising the death toll every time you envision your body against your next casualty. It pleases me greatly.
Could you cross into that other world with me? Our souls have traversed the morning sky, searching for the cure to this hallucination, masking horripilation with lust and ambition. It would please me greatly.
I am the son of the soldier who was the grandson of a soldier who was the great-grandson of a chief. My mother tells me my grandmother believes she's a queen. It pleases me greatly.
I will bring you every world. The corridors of my heart flicker, masking the morning sky with visions of blackened soldiers, horror hollowed by a honeyed queen. You please me greatly.
Categories:
saracen, desire, family, metaphor, military,
Form: Free verse
Smiles touch the eyes
I arise to the hope of salvation
In our hellos and goodbyes
attended by honest communication
I lean in to hear you speak
Tell me what is on your mind
I will not trick or tweak
The treasure that I find
Yet I will voice where we part
Not to change your direction
I hope you will listen to my heart
With friendly love and affection
For you and I would gladly snatch
Each other to our spiritual side
If you or I play ball, one would catch
Save the other in the roaring tide
Love wants the best in the other
We spend daylight in comparison
We can still be a sister and brother
Though you in faith be a Saracen*
In the deviation of Jesus history,
Our two religions do not integrate,
And the “trinity of God” mystery.
Yet let us choose to love, not hate
Categories:
saracen, religion,
Form: Rhyme
By a stone near Saqqara
Sand blown from the Sahara
Mixes with dust from Ankara
Particularly near a pyramid
it peculiarly disappears amid
Two ascetics on a pilgrimage
They observe the strange vanishing
With great verve while brandishing
A saber at a passing Saracen
They wondered if this was transcendence
And blundered towards repentance
Hearts thundered in this Presence
Categories:
saracen, birth, death, god, heaven,
Form: Rhyme
Veiled beauty so homely, so chaste
Purging-black your crown doth baste
Cloistered mantle throttles your solemn waste
Erudite cloak exhibits subtle, stolid taste
Sensual nature appealingly encased
Your virtue, fealty cannot be effaced
All pageantry and style have been erased
Remaining, intrinsic qualities meekly showcased
Outwardly modest; inwardly circumspect
Physical qualities restrained, derelict
Bearing your social stigma without respect
For the fashion police; who your sublimity reject
Bridled maiden so simple, so plain
Retract your temporal, flowing mane
Reveal your fair, pale grain
Your passion, honor no longer restrain
Categories:
saracen, romance
Form: Rhyme
Smooth, effervescent glowing skin
Free of blemish and blighting toxin
Undulating curves of glossy satin
Red cloak shrouds comely Saracen
At the core a being of fibrous substance
From stem to sternum burgeoning affluence
Delicately woven fabric with scintillating elegance
At close quarters emanating a sweet fragrance.
A free-flowing stem signaled detachment
A stalky divide prevented rapprochement
Intricate, inner designs forestalled advancement
Coarse, deepening chasm threatened determent.
Forthwith, I loves tender began to preen
Steadily peeling through the stealthy sheen
Cutting to heart's core, affections to glean
Loves' seed from ensconcing barriers did ween.
Categories:
saracen,
Form: I do not know?