The Prettiest Mule

Sometimes a mule does not know

What is best for itself.

When the mind is confused like that

It secretly desires a master

With a skilled whip

To guide it to those playgrounds

On the earth's table

Where the Sweet One's light has

Made life more tasty.

Hafiz always carries such a whip

But I rarely need to use it.

I prefer just turning myself into

The prettiest mule

In town

And making my tail sing

Knowing your heart will then

Follow.

lost&found

The clouds part, and there's your Excalibur, waiting

to be plucked from the sky and played.

So you reunite with your beloved trumpet

and as you play,

I'm put under a magic spell and I fall madly in love with you.

So you do your magic schtick a bit more, then sell your magic empire,

(yeah, I said "empire")

and you buy us a sailboat.

But at the time you didn't know

that your magic spell over me didn't work on water

(oh no! a twist!).

It turns out, though, that while we were sailing

I fall in love with you forreals

and then we live happily ever after.

(phew!)

[for the commish]

we could start anywhere

Let’s see,

We could start anywhere,

With any word,

In this fertile luminous world in which I live.

What is the first letter of your alphabet?

A,

O—

That will be just fine.

-Hafiz

standing with an ocean in front of me

(standing there with primark plimsoles on my feet)

even

it’s vastness

reminds me of you.

late night story time

if they wrote about us
babes
they would think
they knew just what to say
like they do for all of
(his)story

(your)story:
dark and stormy
but i know
that one was for the lols
one truth
i can't tell if you keep hidden.

(my)story?
i felt something nice
with you

if you wrote about us
babes
what would you say?

lost&found II

haiku of happiness from once upon a wet, wet, wet day:

thinking about you

and something develops:

you nauseate me.

clearly only a girl gone through a heartbreakup could have the audacity to call that a haiku of happiness. but agh, cough, doesn't it aye feel so good sometymes to be sickaghcoughsplutter at the thinkering of a ghostexboyfriend?

(nothimwhowouldknowwhereinlondontofindyou)

a wish stirs to be what i would have been had i not known what is known

here he ponders things that were not: what Caesar would have lived to do had be believed the soothsayer: what might have been: possibilities of the possible as possible: things not known. (like a rock on the surface of the moon. simply there, motionless and trusting in the length of its shelf life)

DEATH, THE PHILOSOPHER

He gives excellent advice by example.

"See!" he says. "See that?"

And he doesn't have to open his mouth

To tell you what.

You can trust his vast experience.

Still, there's no huff in him.

Once he had a most unfortunate passion.

It came to an end.

He loved the way the summer dusk fell.

He wanted to have it falling forever.

It was not possible.

That was the big secret.

It's dreadful when things get as bad as that__

But then they don't!

He got the point, and so, one day,

Miraculously lucid, you, too, came to ask

About the strangeness of it all.

Charles, you said,

How strange you should be here at all!