That my eyes will cease to see
The bright flowers of the spring

That my ears will deafen
To the music of the trodding herds

That my mouth will gape ajar
With flies to fly in and out

That my skin will stop to sense
The sweet burning rays of the noon sun

That my hands will be too frail
To ink the scrolls of my life

Seems to be myth to me
Till 'tis demystified- poor me!

'All is well that ends well'
So take this my kindmen:
When I cease to breath
Wrap me in white sheet
And lift me to the Silent Palace
To serve my lord worms
And don't cry for me
For cries can never bring me back
I will be manure for the crop
Which you will eat in the harvest seasons.



Things, time & change

Things, time & change
Things, time & change
Kings beget servants
And servants kings

The laity & the lords
In chapels worship gold
The young & the elderly
Swim nude in one pool

The streams & the rivers weep
So the oceans sob
Because prophets lost their value
And man's leader is lust

Things, time & change
Time & things change
Live & recall, the drama
Of climax is anti-climax


All poems from Juffureh: Kissing you with hurting lips. Reproduced with the kind
permission of the authors