Ramadhan - Creativity Eleven

Eleven Day

6:55pm Poem

I'm watching you.
Beloved, as the sun rises over Phoenix- a golden giant burning the sky.

And for what?
Where does this beauty-gas go once inhaled by me?

I'm watching you as destiny seconds tick by, lowering your majesty into the oceanic-horizon.
Leaving behind flowing fireworks of flame, orange and purple streaks, and the limited vocabulary looks weak, limping along with the weight of the feeling of the word beauty on its back.

And the people. And the people existing in this orange world, this warm sunset world. How devastatingly beautiful are their faces as they stare in wonder.
Children of a warm earth breathing daisy-dust circles of perfection,
Holy mothers of affection.

Mustard mountains climb from spine up to pierce mind and rewind all back to birth.

This is the sunset earth. Still in the moment.

21hundred pm Poem

Humanity is perspiring. Perked up and retiring.
Drugged over and passed over and left over and dead to me.

Friends of mine are ghosts. Soft bread is burnt toast.
Drained out and loved out and worn out from the ceremony.

I believe in art. You believed in me.
We were dancing on a roof but the songs we sung had differing melody.

Y.Misdaq, Ramadhan 11, 1427