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Hangover at 6 AM on A Thursday

 6 o clock in the morning and venus is still shining defiantly above the sun,
It matters not nonetheless, she will fade soon like everything else,
The morning floods every crack and crevice
But it drowns out everything above
The subtle finer beauties, that's why I always say, can only be found in absence of the sun.

Little by little the creatures of the night retreat back into the shade,

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Wisest Man in Egypt

I will be the wisest man in Egypt, all my teachers say so
One day a peasant comes to me crying, half a hysteric, muttering something about where ever he sees there are only infinities
Whether to the heavens or in his self
There is nothing concrete
I point him to my teacher, the Goddess of Wisdom for whom there is everything, the atoms and space,
Everything is in his body  and his body beyond ...

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Obedience or Patriotism

A child crying, A mother weeping,
A flag flying low , A president sleeping

Musicians who played for love
Now hoarded and bound together in state bands
Their hearts forever riding the crimson surf
Blood seeping from their eyes and their clarinets

A few words of honor, a few words of bravery
A few shots to scare away the crows
Your son is getting old enough for that slavery
Let us send ...

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A revolver's grim prophecy

"It is over at last",
"What is? What is over? What is finally done?"
"The war" one broken .45 revolver answers
" The war is done",
"Forgive me for asking", I timidly muttered, "but who won?"
"Dunno" he says," it's still a bit hazy but it was a good day for the vultures"

"War always seems to be a grand buffet for the vultures", I replied
"But look now the generals are celebrating, saying t...

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Conversations with the angel of dawn

I fumble for my matches out there in the frosty winter
It's 11 degrees and 4 in the night
The angel of the dawn is already there
Sighing longingly and sitting on a ledge

I go sit beside him and he laughs a little and lits up the holy flame
That's all what its' good for now anyways lighting cigarettes and turning minds to ash

He tells me a story or two
Stories about failed lovers, cr...

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Sermons of A Turnip Farmer

Somewhere out there just before the horizon ends
Sits a turnip farmer all alone,


Talking about how the 7 deadly sins are stitched into every fabric, every Fibre of the universe
The worms stuffing their faces with greed and vegetable, stop to listen to him intently
As do the turnips, the soil, the nothingness and  even a prophet or two,

He talks and talks, that's all he does

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Advice from a grave digger

This grave digger who lives 3 bus stops down from me
Often shares stories of his perilous job,
Me, being a certain romantic couldn't possibly resist,
He tells me how to find the right soil,
So that the body is comfortable down there till all of eternity,
What to say to the spirit, so it might not come back to haunt me
But most of all, he tells me how to mourn and pay respect with expertise

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The Waters Of Love

There's cloud all around me
Grey from my ashtray
But I am not lost, not doomed,
Not yet anyway

This swamp tests me 
These waters are foul
My senses have failed me
My heart has thrown in the towel

These sweet limes hanging nearby
All poisonous fruits
My throat is so dry
And their citrus, a deep hue

I know better than that, I should
I should have tried harder than that, I could

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The Emptiness of the Full Stop

Conclusions are often disappointing,
Long ago before the educated men climbed up from hell and solved all the problems of the world,
There was wonder in the cosmos and everything didn't have a goddamned equation to define it,

But that was before streetlights were there, for beggars and broken men to die beneath them
And as the street lights gradually brightened up the night, the stars in the...

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Al-Barr (The generous and most courteous)

He was generous he was sweet
He fed us well, we were meat

Yet somehow as others hobbled towards his call
To feed, to fatten, to round, to fall

I saw myself getting sick and more frail
I felt death near, I felt pale

I saw the colors of existence washing away like dirt in a shower
I saw Him as he was, generous with the meat yet not generous with His power

Thus this was the cu...

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All these gifts, All these blessings in disguise
His mysterious ways, his sadistic delight

From the trees of eden that give a graveyard sigh
To the centipedes within me that just do not die

The students of the earth bicker together, both dung and honey flies
They buzz together, they fly together but alone they shall die

Oblivious to better sunsets, oblivious to a better day

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