Everyman-s

Sabina her name
Her man had written off her fortune
Leaving his last will for her to swallow her own days in nights
All alone wandering her long nights to sell her wares
Her only wares of bulging flesh and fading beuty to longing eyes
And sweating bloods in shadows of big men in dark disguise
Nobody knows whether her own man is dead or alive
In this world of filthy riches and sacred sermons
But this unkind world of hers has its way of impeaching her
Of her body of dignity falling flat over the lost sky in shame
And in despair her hungry body taking refuge in the arms of her big men.

Who sells her a morsel of rice?
Who sells sagging her breasts for her only daughter?
Her days are always in quest of nights for her big men
They all come hungry of slaughters’ gaze
Of cardinal lusts and ordinal pleasure of wolves’ prey
An easy prey as always it is in the whorehouse of freedom
She frees herself so dearly, unrepented and unsmattering
As if the nights are her long day closing its wings
Falling head over heel in eagles’ love
Of unrequited sinner more sinned than the God’s gospels
She cares not knowing the pristine flesh putrefying
And blood blowing cold over the hill of her ageing ages.

She sells herself her only freedom
She sells her one and only right to die anytime
She sells her all and everything not to shy anymore
She sells her body only ageing to die
For her only love to feed her breast in a lullaby
As she kisses her smiling crying herself on the sly.

And for her life goes on and on
In the whorehouse of freedom for an eternity
And the days diminishing in nights of darkness at noon
As she lives as long as her bulging flesh spells the slaughter’s gaze
And her nights pay her a bowl of frothing rice
To feed her breast to her only love to pray for none in her lullaby.

A small face
Of somebody
I have seen
Somewhere else
Wrinkling in space
Of curved time
Among the woods
In bonfire

As time shrinks
Wrinkling and bending
Over the unassuming face
I see the curved space
Smiling in fuzzy wrinkles
Receding back and forth
Wayfaring hardly
Into my indexing eyes
To celebrate the bonfire
Among the woods

And I see the defaced space
Hiding in shy of time
And here it ends once
And for all to see all at once
The reign of time closing
In on the sapphire blue
Of the imperial space
Curved inwardly
Into the womb of the bonfire

Outwardly in vain glory
Of the empire
Reigning in the jungle
Of woods on fire
In spaces of ruing time
Whizzing past
The defaced semblance
That I had seen once
In semlance of sureal dream.

Into the woods
Of darkness submerged
Fiery embers floating in gossamer
Deep into the wombs of rustling leaves
Fireflies in sparkling darkness
Spilling sweats of blood across my long walk
Into the crosswind of lapsing moments

How much length of moments
I have walked into the rustling leaves
Rustling leaves that lapse in my moments
Of last will breathing in gossamer of my wind
How many times I have counted my years
In days and nights into the fiery woods
The prairie fire never extinguishing
My passion for a long worldly wise walk
In quest of a hermit’s wisdom
Into the deep woods of turning end
That rustles in my walking shadows
In the twilight of the frolicking fireflies

So many times I have thought
To leave behind all my wisdom in my lifeline
And so many times I have asked of myself
Whether I am yet out of the woods
Or still into the woods in my long walk
Forgetting the denied course of justice as ever.

Sabina her name
Her man had written off her fortune
Leaving his last will for her to swallow her own days in nights
All alone wandering her long nights to sell her wares
Her only wares of bulging flesh and fading beuty to longing eyes
And sweating bloods in shadows of big men in dark disguise
Nobody knows whether her own man is dead or alive
In this world of filthy riches and sacred sermons
But this unkind world of hers has its way of impeaching her
Of her body of dignity falling flat over the lost sky in shame
And in despair her hungry body taking refuge in the arms of her big men.

Who sells her a morsel of rice?
Who sells sagging her breasts for her only daughter?
Her days are always in quest of nights for her big men
They all come hungry of slaughters’ gaze
Of cardinal lusts and ordinal pleasure of wolves’ prey
An easy prey as always it is in the whorehouse of freedom
She frees herself so dearly, unrepented and unsmattering
As if the nights are her long day closing its wings
Falling head over heel in eagles’ love
Of unrequited sinner more sinned than the God’s gospels
She cares not knowing the pristine flesh putrefying
And blood blowing cold over the hill of her ageing ages.

She sells herself her only freedom
She sells her one and only right to die anytime
She sells her all and everything not to shy anymore
She sells her body only ageing to die
For her only love to feed her breast in a lullaby
As she kisses her smiling crying herself on the sly.

And for her life goes on and on
In the whorehouse of freedom for an eternity
And the days diminishing in nights of darkness at noon
As she lives as long as her bulging flesh spells the slaughter’s gaze
And her nights pay her a bowl of frothing rice
To feed her breast to her only love to pray for none in her lullaby.