Wednesday, September 22, 2010

On Impulse


-on impulse

The Creator

of his glances

made them press masterpieces into the horizon

he perfected nature through his supplications

remained as a living sign for destroyed tribes

in desolate cities only the devil loves

he knows

his beauty has been written about by prophets who know its value

his honour is based on what he honours

not, the lies he lies about



my love is based on how dry your lips are of lust

i pray that my body enscripts its own eulogies

in the grave where i am buried,

you beside meour existence is greater than our existence

we live


i will sing my children songs of you

take them to your land, and have them pray for you

tell them

you were the first to take a heart I have not allowed back into me

I mourn for tombstones

they will kno

wthat I wanted to share your shades

carry your sins

ask God to question me for your actions

my mornings

are made of your words and my head wraps

the thought of you feels like being saved from an execution

my beauty and your dreams being realized through me, of me,

my nights are of the wind telling me

you are the universes poems, the earths epiphanies

the deserts stories, the blessed similes

i brag to my soul that I was not created alone

so, give me hope

that when our hands join, it will resurrect dead cities

we will die on impulse

of a death in prostration and truth

-hodan ibrahim

Copyright © 2010

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