tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20413375722716349622024-03-05T17:02:48.364-08:00Puddle PoolRain drops give Life.
After the rain is gone, puddle pools are created.
They are scary.
I am looking at them from a distance.
They carry life, they reflect, they shine.
I do'nt know how deep they are.
I could slip in, mess myself or get caught.SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-45915549413321093292022-07-03T04:15:00.000-07:002022-07-03T04:15:04.754-07:00Position of PowerI am taking away the <br />memory of love from love<br />definition of success from success<br />the adjectives and nouns<br />that connect relation and responsibility to faces.<br />I have shaken up <br />the correlation called knowledge <br />and destroyed it's warehouses called history.<br /><br />I am juicing them all out<br />enjoying the overflowing Rasa,<br />till the time they just are ....<br /><br />I am taking away the past and its role <div>in evolving the definitions of present.<br /><br />I am taking away foresight <br />from experiences and am<br />evolving from reading books to talking to trees<br />.... from running behind a career to chasing squirrels.<br /><br />I am the meaningful me <br />and you the otherwise of me.<br />Peace is power and my being a bliss now.<br /><br />~ A<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGOvp-qCSWbd-aSRxrduQ0KhZhu6fFSoqbGbD3cXxuaEHlzjD2SKZ6ciFWYQdt99h_0ZLvTDFdl7VUDxiKGZBkMY2cs8HHsBuypDTE6rOT8zIJB1gp_yhmsshLwRsuExv6IESbMeur3o9RUHQ-IbMomROY1zHsUmno7xcZn8Eueu-C7Bnoj6TSw/s1600/WhatsApp%20Image%202022-06-29%20at%207.50.20%20PM.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGOvp-qCSWbd-aSRxrduQ0KhZhu6fFSoqbGbD3cXxuaEHlzjD2SKZ6ciFWYQdt99h_0ZLvTDFdl7VUDxiKGZBkMY2cs8HHsBuypDTE6rOT8zIJB1gp_yhmsshLwRsuExv6IESbMeur3o9RUHQ-IbMomROY1zHsUmno7xcZn8Eueu-C7Bnoj6TSw/w240-h310/WhatsApp%20Image%202022-06-29%20at%207.50.20%20PM.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div>SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-8580540078226316272022-05-01T03:54:00.002-07:002024-03-01T02:26:16.481-08:00 First Sunday of May 2022Of the things that I love most is watching ! <br />I watch myself as I move from day to day <br />Carrying an infinite joy<br />Transcendence and certitude<br /><br />I watch myself being hated and loved<br />the helplessness of not knowing where we are headed<br />Your annoyance while you fix my house & lunches<br />togetherness and separations coincide <br />the blister from your finger in my heart reside<br /><br />My vagrant heart owns nothing <br />I do not know how the rest of the world does<br />but in this living of hatred, in jealousy, in disgust, <br />in the silence, there is the love that I need<br />Watching it growing the distance between us <br />is ink to reflections and a poem I weave each day. <br /><br /><br />~ A<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBjcJycF4zVyAQgAj11Wb4ZGeLeNBpIIZLOjokQoypIpp836aXokexU8m8DMrT87DgGHeWiA6X28-q5TlM2lZOUTQ1wPydrE8jWtsjhZRfqEAaEaPdZ9SDtCY6usjPj9Vq7-rIqiq1GqW2iSNHDJ9knnjAElz7eJ9Fz5TWPZaMp1wkDjyN5opiTQ/s1537/image%20self.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBjcJycF4zVyAQgAj11Wb4ZGeLeNBpIIZLOjokQoypIpp836aXokexU8m8DMrT87DgGHeWiA6X28-q5TlM2lZOUTQ1wPydrE8jWtsjhZRfqEAaEaPdZ9SDtCY6usjPj9Vq7-rIqiq1GqW2iSNHDJ9knnjAElz7eJ9Fz5TWPZaMp1wkDjyN5opiTQ/s320/image%20self.jpg" /></a><br /><br />SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-75369198894883184632021-12-31T01:48:00.001-08:002021-12-31T01:48:09.775-08:00 Making of a MANI am lonely, dad!<br />As lonely as a Man ought to be.<br /><br />A son without a father in the world<br />A journey without a path <br />A road without a curve<br />Is this the way it ought to be?<br /><br />In my childhood <br />When I stood on the balcony <br />Waiting for you <br />I knew you are gone because you had to <br />But this time dad, I will come <br />You wait there, dad<br />I will come.<br /><br />I am lonely, dad!<br />As lonely as you cannot believe <br />Days pass without a philosophical discussion<br />No new things are told to me<br />No one talks our kinda things<br />Is this the way it ought to be? Dad!<br /><br />You knew my journeys<br />You knew and felt me growing <br />You saw me from childhood to a man <br />The man I have become<br />Yet a man also needs a father, dad!<br /><br />I will wait for better days<br />When we meet as father and son again.<br /><br />I am lonely, dad!<br />As lonely as you cannot believe <br />and no one sees it, dad!!<br />Is this the way it ought to be?<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhm3zIMF6U1_zE-ayOB78z9tKRnP4yR2JE10tTKsw53_uVHYkLn68krGaXzvNT8ifwifQ5gCKhO01_cmwl0pcC9jrmTp2Y0lLR1xh0VRmZ16G42sdPgVw16XLDfc7W4-gngkuaI82bVGuKOaJgR3x_nZ4u2DTn9GjDtqTT_dppxYeacXNbd3lGQ0A=s5216"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhm3zIMF6U1_zE-ayOB78z9tKRnP4yR2JE10tTKsw53_uVHYkLn68krGaXzvNT8ifwifQ5gCKhO01_cmwl0pcC9jrmTp2Y0lLR1xh0VRmZ16G42sdPgVw16XLDfc7W4-gngkuaI82bVGuKOaJgR3x_nZ4u2DTn9GjDtqTT_dppxYeacXNbd3lGQ0A=s320" /></a><br /><br />SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-37177258003771829262021-12-15T02:43:00.002-08:002021-12-15T02:43:27.048-08:00 Spadework insight<p><br /></p>Lying side by side<div>Energized entranced eyes<br />Momentarily behind glasses<br />Kohl a layer oversight <br />Rimmed delusions <br />Perspectives of reality<br />Construct or distort <br />What should be seen<br />From what is possibly<br />Visioned delusive delight<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgxsgyeX4H0_01jGPS-WxisINivfWS_hKYtT_aCoTlnMq-Osk6_FKGX3YBy6JrL6zmnVxE3yYEc5MYYqpbh07T1D_wuoCTmJ67tJX6eGrKk-sRCntrb7342aTaWhzDh9uBVzxZLbtwNR7jpz7zvXf5zaIDmaqbeVl439OlCfpCjbgzP4QLTpq62cA=s4160" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3120" data-original-width="4160" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgxsgyeX4H0_01jGPS-WxisINivfWS_hKYtT_aCoTlnMq-Osk6_FKGX3YBy6JrL6zmnVxE3yYEc5MYYqpbh07T1D_wuoCTmJ67tJX6eGrKk-sRCntrb7342aTaWhzDh9uBVzxZLbtwNR7jpz7zvXf5zaIDmaqbeVl439OlCfpCjbgzP4QLTpq62cA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div>SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-52366127589849091022021-10-08T17:10:00.001-07:002021-10-08T17:10:11.976-07:00Dauntless Me<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Working for my desires,</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I achieve only that which is defined</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Boundless I soar free</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">From achievement to achievement</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Untangled yet embellished.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I become limited</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">when I run around the land, meeting people,</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">traversing geographies.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></p><div style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I become unlimited<br />When I sit silently,<br />And immerse myself<br />In myself<br />and when I meet the reason behind and the result of<br />The existing.<br /><br /></div><div style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">In being I belong<br />In my belongings I find you,<br />Adapting, reasoning, living and<br />Enjoying the fragrance of your spirit<br />Concealed in your bodily fragrances<br />Flowering in your bosom<br />Within the bodices and the laces.<br /><br />When I sit silently with you<br />I become Love.</div><div style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32_Tn7kWzVk9AX_w4mtN-j06XGrAD1idnDeLgbDnd7r3I3lrNlWHr8xeJ8GJia1PG2RGWZ41zY-eTFxRtiOULzh0fsKeD9TtwysNjUHB_bCUlHunHtxlrOsstswlo2f6hsdkOJw84/s1920/flower-6206819_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1920" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32_Tn7kWzVk9AX_w4mtN-j06XGrAD1idnDeLgbDnd7r3I3lrNlWHr8xeJ8GJia1PG2RGWZ41zY-eTFxRtiOULzh0fsKeD9TtwysNjUHB_bCUlHunHtxlrOsstswlo2f6hsdkOJw84/s320/flower-6206819_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /><br />- A</div><div style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div>SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-50805819570133339582021-08-24T22:00:00.000-07:002021-08-24T22:00:11.447-07:00Kiss & Go<br />Chapters read, unread, understood, or missed<br />Are not stabbed with tags, marks, and dried flowers<br />Nor are the crease of pages folded to leave a forever longing<br />I seldom start from where I left and prefer random pages<br /><br />I do not dig into books to smell their fragrant auras<br />Nor do I hold the fingers of authors, dragging them to a walk<br />I wait for mental energies to ignite<br />Deflecting them into a pillow side wandering by midnight<br /><br />I don't write my name on books I read<br />Neither do I protect them with a cover<br />Nor divide them into library classifications <br />I embrace only those, free from slavery to protos <br /><br />I do not quote from them <br />Nor underline passages I feel are important <br />or google search for meanings of complications felt, nor research<br />A vagabond I do not carry our meetings beyond a thought<br /><br />They often rust, retire and crumble<br />Or in long drives spill fumes and develop snags<br />Breaking journeys through seasons and lyre<br />Books don't belong they kiss & go<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-4bi_3G_edN9ims0W2gJq3zGaHHq0sGtjkgMhTRTTTme_6E6TWwHJBTOr3vB77lay6oye4iTynanpH5MiSxygsaeDAj88dbXF5DbMO1uJ0g9xMu_ivQ3VSxXehn7P3z5rRrtEOBs/s640/IMG_0968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-4bi_3G_edN9ims0W2gJq3zGaHHq0sGtjkgMhTRTTTme_6E6TWwHJBTOr3vB77lay6oye4iTynanpH5MiSxygsaeDAj88dbXF5DbMO1uJ0g9xMu_ivQ3VSxXehn7P3z5rRrtEOBs/s320/IMG_0968.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-76362613250867350892021-08-14T17:50:00.002-07:002021-08-14T17:50:49.127-07:00Across TimeInnocent little child, <br />by the road side, <div>waiting for <br />those on their journey to feed the unfelt hunger<br />united with the impoverished, unbathed-self<br />lost on a crossing, near a red light</div><div>where cars racing in the city </div><div>stopped awhile.<br />I stopped by and flipped a coin <br />a pale vessel in little hands rejoiced in a clang<br />Sound metallic, metal on metal <br />In the human hands, the sound earlier heard <br />In the clanking of chains, screeching of swords<br />and in the clang when the Fe in beings unites. <br /><br />That was me in a different birth</div><div>Separated by <i>Maya </i>in the journey of time</div><div>Across a wind screen. </div><div>Momentarily across, Separated, Real.</div><div>I swooshed past flipping just a coin<br />in a pale vessel.<br />The child-me of ages past, searching food from travelers,<br />whom he, then, did not know as car drivers<br />but recognized them as strange sounds<br />and huge masses with unimaginable figments of power</div><div>fuel and perishing speeds<br />and faces that emerged from behind the screens<br />faces much of a muchness<br />faces as I still see, when clouds walk over me <br />leaving only glimpses of <br />angelic attendants of the conventions of God<br />as they lower their windows to drop a coin of sunbeam</div><div>or a rain drop.<br /><br />I am drenched with limitless raindrops, </div><div>caressed by warm sunlight.</div><div> <br />We always meet ourselves in others, <br />The angels meet Their Selves in us </div><div>Clouds peep on us as clouds </div><div>Water outside reciprocates the water within </div><div>as we do in fellow-mortals.</div><div>Silence ! it should all go unrecognized<br />and <i>Maya</i> must conceal, </div><div>to keep the journeys alive</div><div>Lest this world would come to a halt</div><div>in complete unity.</div><div><br /></div><div>Time would have stopped</div><div>had I from my car stepped out to hold the hand of the little child</div><div>even if for a while.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzfHYX0orv7qEbjlIvRwBiSLd8iM4nJQo3DaBaxpeCNmeZYxBRO90jZag3Sm0iH01XLG2fWV0HJcJDDpG_FjAlodskO8qOzgjKWkph-AqOIKsfcTBoY1BwiimQSElSRKcPIhVaoUnk/s390/little-boy-unhappy-sleeping-alone-260nw-661504381.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="260" data-original-width="390" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzfHYX0orv7qEbjlIvRwBiSLd8iM4nJQo3DaBaxpeCNmeZYxBRO90jZag3Sm0iH01XLG2fWV0HJcJDDpG_FjAlodskO8qOzgjKWkph-AqOIKsfcTBoY1BwiimQSElSRKcPIhVaoUnk/s320/little-boy-unhappy-sleeping-alone-260nw-661504381.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div>SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-13335424864160578522021-04-03T07:29:00.000-07:002021-04-03T07:29:46.557-07:00I have with me the many MEIn this moment <br />In this instant <br />I have with me the many ME<br />The many incarnations I am to live and lived, the strength of many arms and wings<br />Wholly united and conjoined with my Self<br /> Touching my Soul<br /><br /><br />In this moment <br />In this instant<br />I have with me the love and the laughter of all lives <br />The rivers I bathed and the skies I loved, the forests, fields and the seas<br />Wholly united and conjoined with my Self<br /> Touching my Soul<br /><br /><br />In this moment <br />In this instant<br />I have with me the journeys and the lessons of all lives<br />The milestones achieved and left, with a sparkling awareness, radiance and energy in my deeds<br />Wholly united and conjoined with my Self<br /> Touching my Soul<br /><br /><br />In this moment <br />In this instant<br />I am ready to put all that I have and I have earned to pay off my debts<br />I am compassionate and reignite to be where I am <br />Wholly united and conjoined with my Self<br />Touching my Soul.<br /><br /><br />~ A<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbalCfs2i__Puz1j9Wr_6n15iF9e9PnjFOLSyeHLaCYB5sDPOww4-YTdK98FuasF2jZk8KpXja6MpLnts3dmB7P7mjGktviH8IiYxd89mFg_lzh79qn_VFUGsMQLHW2FVfASxwKQ1P/s1239/me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1019" data-original-width="1239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbalCfs2i__Puz1j9Wr_6n15iF9e9PnjFOLSyeHLaCYB5sDPOww4-YTdK98FuasF2jZk8KpXja6MpLnts3dmB7P7mjGktviH8IiYxd89mFg_lzh79qn_VFUGsMQLHW2FVfASxwKQ1P/s320/me.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-43978567546474573182021-03-31T01:25:00.000-07:002021-03-31T01:25:13.149-07:00I do not search or seek<br /> Between a thousand societal norms<div>Agreements, alliances arrangements<br />Responsibilities and those we go back to<br />There is no TRUTH<br /><br />Between looking out and looking in<br />Is a figment of change of stance<br />Where method perishes to experiment<br />There is a gleam of LIGHT<br />Yet not the TRUTH<br /><br />I do not search or seek.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwcaxQMcso6TOGLiwL0NV8lnO-TVeuGo6luV3-JFr5PevvPFsVZPK7gfsv9MDsKFY9KSC9bfWnBGTxg9mBAtxZvIttiQ2vHf-YSuyHzqVsfsWKjEKW8DmFFjAGv3YzkwhyoIRBv4N3/s1024/164498129_4204492482903861_8922373844965764882_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwcaxQMcso6TOGLiwL0NV8lnO-TVeuGo6luV3-JFr5PevvPFsVZPK7gfsv9MDsKFY9KSC9bfWnBGTxg9mBAtxZvIttiQ2vHf-YSuyHzqVsfsWKjEKW8DmFFjAGv3YzkwhyoIRBv4N3/s320/164498129_4204492482903861_8922373844965764882_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-47000193667565405992021-03-31T01:16:00.002-07:002021-03-31T01:16:29.687-07:00Auric Delights<br />I have walked <br />through Togetherness<br />and come into the Self<br />where you are manifest <br />in I<br /><br /><br />as Auric delights of<br />your presence<br />and waves of color<br />impinge <br />on the continuous thoughts <br />in which we live<br />a fragrance-like<br />construct of softness<br />extends moments into hours<br />and delights into destinies<br />I feel you<br /><br /><br />I see you swarming<br />your life with your days<br />counting hours<br />slowing time<br />watching seconds<br />from moments<br />separating froth from foam<br />time from the present<br />integrating tough<br />for a transgression of auras<br />and long journeys<br />of births <br />through open eyes<br />and conversations <br />that do not end<br /><br /><br />I am I <br />and now <br />with you within<br />AM<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfvWBgaSIIdIZGRWreedCE9WMBM-euOwwJf3gOcB7ybwrJIbYJL-e26NUwFjcLKDW2tuhOJzrQ-jRrgPW9ug44p-Qmlt0-HSJ8ji1hddz4QqI8V87TqFsJnEXgkt1rJP1jsJbrYu9-/s1920/The-Reiki-Guide_do_the_reiki_aura_sweep-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfvWBgaSIIdIZGRWreedCE9WMBM-euOwwJf3gOcB7ybwrJIbYJL-e26NUwFjcLKDW2tuhOJzrQ-jRrgPW9ug44p-Qmlt0-HSJ8ji1hddz4QqI8V87TqFsJnEXgkt1rJP1jsJbrYu9-/s320/The-Reiki-Guide_do_the_reiki_aura_sweep-1.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-67305795443852388712020-08-06T17:45:00.000-07:002020-08-06T17:45:28.072-07:00Dedicated to the nameless whom we can only feel amongst us today.<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="e3oa" data-offset-key="altie-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="altie-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;">Are poets faces, voice, and words<br />Are they names, they are books<br />Are they just languages and verses<br />Look back just up to Atlantis or Indus<br />The innumerable races and poets<br />Tell us that all the poetry of the world<br />Is creating a GREAT SILENCE<br />Which every poetry holds in its aftermath<br />................. to which all poets must proceed.<br /><br />~ Dedicated to the nameless whom we can only feel amongst us today.<br /><br />Thankyou Rati Saxena for including the perishing me and my passionate prescriptions for happiness in your list of poetry and in the Kritya Poetry Movement.<br /><br />I wish you good energy for everything you are doing.</div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="altie-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuZeYADxfvECP3ljix6NgeZQM0hkMrJn0Vh-ms8w3SgQ87Wa5eYeiWOqYYpl3VfHxlEdxFdo9WJ5pxfQWMHKqJbyWhoNmSil7nhA-G8twe8J3N4mljMxQqD7Sh8ChZNNZHGWdTIUIk/s496/117241069_10158723968698909_3974268949521406100_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuZeYADxfvECP3ljix6NgeZQM0hkMrJn0Vh-ms8w3SgQ87Wa5eYeiWOqYYpl3VfHxlEdxFdo9WJ5pxfQWMHKqJbyWhoNmSil7nhA-G8twe8J3N4mljMxQqD7Sh8ChZNNZHGWdTIUIk/s0/117241069_10158723968698909_3974268949521406100_o.jpg" /></a></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="altie-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><br /></div></div>SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-36660827762520587642020-07-09T18:59:00.001-07:002020-07-09T18:59:36.020-07:00Mirror Time <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Reality reveals the new constant <br />If you hug a rock close enough <br />To unite the fossil with the living <br />Hands that feel the surface dig <br />Ambivalence creates reflections <br />Mirrors in which the frozen fossil <br />in a living past sees itself as you <br />hit a wall in your mirror today <br />and cannot feel beyond the self. <br />~ <br />A<div>
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-15579817440389887282020-07-08T08:06:00.002-07:002020-07-08T08:06:20.115-07:00Man Room <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was misled by an evening <br />to believe <br />that my night <br />to a room belonged. <br /><br />When every bird in the sky <br />had found a nest to rest <br />a branch to perch <br />and wrap the evening in its wings. <br />Snuggling on my bed <br />cushioned into a blanket <br />its estrus fit into my breath <br />filling a haptic gaze into the night <br />moving from crest to crest <br />sleep to dreams to wakeful eyes <br />to early mornings and bird songs again <br />only to know one day for me will end <br />in a nest. <br /><br />~ A<div>
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-28625478901353552812020-07-07T09:27:00.001-07:002020-07-09T09:11:04.941-07:00Walk back into LOVE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It is tragic<br />
To walk back into LOVE<br />
Intellectual depravity<br />
unlocks old rooms with stale air<br />
and just for a pinch of shade<br />
or for lust<br />
or merely for survival sake <br />
accept crumbling walls with peeling paint<br />
plaster chipping,<br />
decaying into <br />
effervescence<br />
at the base near the skirting,<br />
the ebony floor<br />
hollowed with termites.<br />
It is disgusting<br />
to enter the rooms, I made<br />
decades ago, <br />
and to step onto their balconies <br />
that lead to the undergrowth of heavens<br />
and not to the fresh air beyond.<br />
<br />
It is difficult to hold back<br />
lest the longing splits into <br />
splinters and ambers on which <br />
we burn and bleed, <br />
just because of<br />
lack of caution, <br />
greed <br />
and insipid passion.<br />
~ A<br />
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-13360904855082769482017-08-07T08:44:00.002-07:002017-08-07T08:44:43.663-07:00OF HANDS and TOUCH<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
OF HANDS and TOUCH <br /><br />I have always wondered<br />Where was it that my hands <br />learned to crave and to remember <br />a touch, that they so long for.<br />Where is its memory stored <br />and how does it signal a tremor in <br />my consciousness.<br /><br />While you remained away, my hands <br />have aged to a fluffy rough <br />with marks and mounds not known to <br />days of togetherness.<br />Its in the waiting of many decades that <br />they have learned to slide and glide against each other <br />in the symphonies of anxiety and<br />the serenity of the yog mudras<br />while with you, in youth they <br />had freely danced<br />for months and weeks and years.<br /><br />Together we invented the language <br />of the dumb, the imbeciles and the juveniles<br />as palms on palms listlessly fly<br />and as the indexes entwine<br />to a firm grip,<br />leaving the others free to <br />imitate an embrace <br />or stay closely huddled <br />till the beating of the pulse is felt.<br />Palms laze on palms <br />as parachutes collapse to the ground<br />while the silks of your wrist glide <br />and surf the <br />tactile of the wavy hair of forearm. <br /><br /><br />Listless memories of my unsteady hands<br />learning a grip and then a feel,<br />trying to remember and distinguish a <br />caresses from an abominable touch.<br />The language of the hands is learned <br />with patting on the back, leanings on shoulder <br />and the nipping on cheek<br />in the morsels, in the huddles and in the embrace.<br />While the body and soul resonate<br />its the hands that communicate.<br /><br /><br />From a montage of touches <br />my stimuli has learned to discern,<br />but I have always wondered<br />Is it that the ridges <br /><br />of our hands meet and collide <br />to a tight fit <br />or cause an electrostatic charge <br />from friction <br />or is it Love that flows through the<br />finger tips<br />when it has no other measures <br />to express and explore.<br /><br /><br />Hands know the language <br />of hands<br />there are seeds that reach the soul<br />with a caress and <br />a touch has memory<br />only that, it does not evolve <br />because the body intervenes <br />too soon, and steals the play<br />making them only objects of <br />grips and holds<br />objects that lie tied as cuffs<br />or strangle or tie <br />while the pleasures born are<br />stolen into the torso.<br /><br /><br />I have always wondered<br />What is it in the epidermis that <br />gets transmitted <br />through the cusps and the mounds<br />into the soul plates of nerves<br />that remain entangled in my hands <br />causing a flow and a longing<br />in all Contact.<br />There is something that hands do<br />in the idle hours of listless days<br />till labour, hunger or desire<br />spade the laze and frutify action.<br />They have learned the <br />hops of the index, the<br />slides of the moist palms<br />the knuckle knocks<br />the high-fives<br />the thumb cajoles<br />the mound to mound collides<br />and the thumb sting play<br />games only hands know<br />how to play for a better TOUCH.<br /><br />~ A.<div>
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-60405823978369016122017-05-31T08:39:00.002-07:002017-05-31T08:39:20.662-07:00O! Poet, Walk through me.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
....a poet is a being <br />who spells poetry.<br /><br />He buys from <br />many hearts<br />their harvest <br />and carries his goods in<br />unspoken chambers <br />within the <br />silent taverns of <br />seven hopes<br />only to weave <br />the latticed-warbles of<br />pulsating emotions <br />and<br />kaleidoscopic visions<br />of trust and life.<br /><br />To many it appears<br />that the poet works <br />in silence <br />but he is only motionlessly <br />tendering and creating .....<br />journeying as a being <br />that does not die <br />but moves from <br />body to body <br />mind to heart <br />from many to many<br />only to re-establish <br />the unity of rhyme and rhythm.<br /><br />Walk through me <br />O! Poet.<br /><br />~ A.<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-59786798047422324792016-12-15T09:14:00.001-08:002016-12-15T20:52:11.251-08:00Ageless Ark<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Lets create<br />
something for good<br />
I will be the CRAFT and<br />
you be the WOOD.<br />
<br />
Let me uproot you<br />
from the trunks of<br />
long-run mellowed trees<br />
that divide into<br />
branches<br />
beyond the reach<br />
of the purlins<br />
of the kirk on high,<br />
leaving your origins<br />
into the soil stung roots<br />
behind.<br />
<br />
Let me<br />
wedge you in the back<br />
with a cut about<br />
two inches deep<br />
so that you,<br />
with soft winds<br />
to natural inclinations<br />
fall<br />
splitting<br />
your xylem rings<br />
and memories of<br />
ageless time.<br />
<br />
Let me be your Master<br />
as I axe you<br />
with my power blows,<br />
screening you<br />
through your divide<br />
let your bark and sheaths be<br />
stripped aside<br />
for I<br />
have a glimpse into your<br />
sap and heartwood<br />
be my soul and guide<br />
my hands<br />
through your resins<br />
or let the reflexes of<br />
my muscles memory<br />
through.<br />
<br />
Let me feel<br />
the woody you<br />
as you allow my craft<br />
along the grains of your<br />
natural spline<br />
and me with my<br />
panel saw<br />
cut you in rafters<br />
which I shall later join<br />
up to the keel<br />
doft with twitches of<br />
iron nails<br />
holding the ribs<br />
and the knee<br />
to a firm clinker built<br />
and perfect shapes entwined.<br />
<br />
<br />
Lets create<br />
something for good<br />
I will be the craft and<br />
you be the wood.<br />
<br />
<br />
I know when the<br />
age of formation is past<br />
sooner or later the<br />
day shall arrive<br />
when as the treasures of<br />
the world you shall vessel<br />
floating along the<br />
contours of the<br />
rising tides.<br />
I might be missed in<br />
the eludes of time<br />
or in a double-cross<br />
my name will in the list<br />
subside<br />
but only if you let me through<br />
TODAY<br />
will many through my CRAFT survive<br />
O! wood of the Ageless Ark.<br />
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~ A<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKNpuWoxBpwG7EcYL1VbWCKP9OU4OWkGoY9NsNA03w4Lfixa6YLzf9x9YCupqHVlYHWg-IebD2KWcFP1cDjSvNiC1pUWzaXvX5k2vY8qg0Nv0PuCL-EymskEIdppwApzD_ocloVagx/s1600/wooden+boat+copy.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKNpuWoxBpwG7EcYL1VbWCKP9OU4OWkGoY9NsNA03w4Lfixa6YLzf9x9YCupqHVlYHWg-IebD2KWcFP1cDjSvNiC1pUWzaXvX5k2vY8qg0Nv0PuCL-EymskEIdppwApzD_ocloVagx/s320/wooden+boat+copy.jpg" /></a><br />
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-87521898387407560052016-11-28T08:18:00.000-08:002016-11-28T08:18:04.997-08:00Will it ever be me again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Incompatible worlds <br />that thrive on my facets <br />poach on me<br />Vagaries that breed to<div>
disarray me<br />smother reality <br />Infectious peace retracts <br />for prodigious expectations<br />self reacts to self<br />Divided along asymmetry<br />torn along rift zones<br />flows the molten me <br />Empty for obsidian<br />plates sifted<br />will it ever be me again?</div>
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<br />~ A</div>
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-40028777192567558052016-10-26T08:56:00.000-07:002016-10-26T09:01:19.298-07:00confused fresh<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
Hoofs of a young fawn at daybreak sped</div>
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Bright sunlight strained on a lime-sorbet</div>
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Nature soothing the cause of life on all-clear</div>
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Senses now spins to destinations off-near </div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
A while ago everything was confused fresh</div>
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Qued seasons were unpredictable instead</div>
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And then the manner of life for memory's sake</div>
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Stale flesh from free range to broiler instead. </div>
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Reticenct pleasures sentenced to agony's best</div>
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Hope giggled in a frenzied child-like zest</div>
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Furtive desires from under the blanket peep</div>
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As dreams embodying my life undress. </div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
~ A</div>
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-32783349986379954902016-10-19T16:30:00.001-07:002016-10-19T16:34:40.002-07:00Durga<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Resplendent pleasure and pain<br />
Festivities in religious ardour<br />
Amulets of Love<br />
Riddled righteous passion<br />
Fragrance of Alistonia<br />
Crazing the lazy daybreak hour<br />
De-greased‎ hides, suedes and Feather<br />
Dhaki rolls the Kathi fervour<br />
Reds smudge hems of feet<br />
Cinnabar brow-smears<br />
<div>
Lal-paar tasseled anchals<br />
Durga in her valour<br />
Chakra, club, conch, lotus, arrows, spears, <br />
thunderbolt, trident<br />
SHE is<br />
Still in an eighteen-armed blow <br />
To the two armed Mahishasur..<br />
piercing his heart<br />
Trinkets of blood in the falling<br />
Tiger clawing the wounded-asur<br />
Is breached by the stillness of festivity<br />
Mahishasur Mardini exudes<br />
Shrieks of joy, Sounds of clanking<br />
Conch-Naad, Bells and Verses<br />
Sorrows and Joys are blessings<br />
Crimes of Love bestowing<img src="https://ssl.gstatic.com/ui/v1/icons/mail/images/cleardot.gif" /><br />
STILLNESS in a victory hour.....<br />
~ A</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8t0MnfGgkvW5OyHUvmnDW8eFiT0qxnaJGKBmhWPdqUgsdLRD9mtAFiStpBI_s3KTlJc6j03teZzw4-kW1C7OzK0FiFaxaZZwPQe5KakimH4I58oUD6y2kesVe1AFY5OMbgbDdKPG/s1600/202609526643973+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8t0MnfGgkvW5OyHUvmnDW8eFiT0qxnaJGKBmhWPdqUgsdLRD9mtAFiStpBI_s3KTlJc6j03teZzw4-kW1C7OzK0FiFaxaZZwPQe5KakimH4I58oUD6y2kesVe1AFY5OMbgbDdKPG/s400/202609526643973+copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-68807704697212914892016-10-16T00:46:00.000-07:002016-10-16T00:46:31.611-07:00Kinetics <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The kinetics of Clockwork<br />A pendulum in full motion<br />Swinging<br />Gaze fixed to oscillation<br />Hypnotic fruitification<br />Stimulus to its countlessness <br />Haste............. I find it.<br />It spins a web<br />Bringing many collisions to action<br />I flow in its fulfillment<br />Smuffed in its admiration<br />Smothered by its potency<br />I submit....<br />It was <br />Just a wandering thought<br />Steeped in Love <br />For your adoration..<div>
<br />~ A</div>
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-82822255143825836792016-10-14T21:55:00.001-07:002016-10-14T21:55:52.667-07:00Its an age gone by<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It does not touch me now<br />nor does it probe into <br />my sense of being.<br />It does not declare me alive<br />nor excavate a sensory fossil<br />from the crevices of day dreams.<br />It does not lava<br />the heat from the core<br />nor does it benumb me <br />into the hollowness inside.<br />Its no more a cause of habit <br />nor does it ask me to asunder <br />purpose-truths of this shallow life.<br />It does not call for pardon<br />nor makes me guilty of my days. <br />Its not in the passing <br />nor in the waiting is it <br />Its an age gone by<br />and I do not care..<br /><br /><br />~ A<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZXckA9tpGZjDXSbro7DEmGAKwqSF_WlFpj1g8orpb995MkFWAGC8gAIybPpm22w3mCVoJC7oC3RsL9XVn_Vizta3Sz7yFW4EAqLfY7SBpOJ5YrSmCo654WEMIsLiByAJR1FLunuMR/s1600/080623_r17477_p646.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZXckA9tpGZjDXSbro7DEmGAKwqSF_WlFpj1g8orpb995MkFWAGC8gAIybPpm22w3mCVoJC7oC3RsL9XVn_Vizta3Sz7yFW4EAqLfY7SBpOJ5YrSmCo654WEMIsLiByAJR1FLunuMR/s320/080623_r17477_p646.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-49946887331131891092015-07-08T19:56:00.001-07:002015-07-08T19:56:24.780-07:00An hour on "Robert Frost Trail".<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Tepid madness of life expressed</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Squalls for me and thing suppressed</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I trembled on each step I took</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">To stand where the poet stood.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">On untouched turf he oft rode</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">For rhymes in spoors and every nest</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Many with endearing hearts appear</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">As flames within the breadloaf disappear.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Wayside along the winding roads</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A thread of Frost, a scribbled trail</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Which rode amid the hearts and words</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">As spirited horses in autumn woods.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Through rusting leaves an hour spent</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Chuckles of gnomes hushed in breeze</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">While riotous cicadas on crickets rode</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The spell of this wayside shrine. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Winged dreams from a poetic crest</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Will always find a branch to rest</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The Road not taken poignant though</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Stood speechless on a paths so known.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Only an untouched forest does know</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Its way to shine in limericks though</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">New born leaves with a dream so new</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Was caught in age old poesy though.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">What if I walked the forest breeze</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Into the woods with broken trees</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Will rhymes of breaths weave a trail</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Though winters cover it with snow.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">~ A</span></div>
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-34131255681520017792015-06-21T23:01:00.001-07:002015-06-21T23:01:20.178-07:00be a companion in my mind...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Come<br />
And be a companion<br />
In my mind<br />
For the nights are listless<br />
And the days do not leave<br />
Memories in a name<br />
To which I belong.<br />
<br />
Come<br />
And be a companion<br />
In my mind<br />
For my body only obeys<br />
Nature's instinct imbued<br />
In the trenches o' my heart<br />
For me to war or follow.<br />
<br />
Come<br />
And be in unity<br />
In my anonymity<br />
For names stir expectation<br />
And the cycle of Love is drawn<br />
To destinations all known<br />
Pain peace and solitude.<br />
<br />
Come<br />
And let your youth ascertain<br />
The demeanor of my age<br />
My path into silent times<br />
And a caducity where<br />
Passions free forever flee<br />
To many breaths.<br />
<br />
Come<br />
And let's shine for no reason<br />
for stars cover the helpless night<br />
Beyond the beings forever.<br />
~ A.<br />
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2041337572271634962.post-52016121168556170692015-06-19T07:08:00.002-07:002015-06-19T07:08:49.338-07:00The REAL me....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The Real ME...</span><br />
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I am not, the Complete me,<div>
The Truth of me is past,</div>
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Firmed in the Breeze,</div>
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Chiding clock's stutter, </div>
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And the Real is yet to be.</div>
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But am told the Real you,</div>
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Is drifting in the passing too.</div>
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Layers of time, </div>
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In chambers of certitude contain</div>
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An incognito in the present</div>
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Decoy of past and Yet to be.</div>
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~ A</div>
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SUFI BENAAMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796612006109390372noreply@blogger.com0