Sunday, March 12, 2017

My Oasis

Everything i touch
turns gold to flame

everything i say backfires
everything i do melts

i've told every lie
to unmask the truth
to keep quiet

i've built a ship of fifty rowers
on the most peaceful sea

and i go nowhere in particular
always to what seems like shore
to her my oasis

Friday, January 9, 2009

faiz-o-vision blog is officially closed.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

free to roam

On a winter evening that won't bloom
when movement lingers across the bridge
in a shelter deserted by wind
outside a place that lingers in your chest

anchored by your body
you see as far as the seas

and as you take the world with you back to shore
alone you'll be no more

free to Rome, and east across this Aegean man

Thursday, January 1, 2009

On the first of january

I only wish i had given her what she wanted.
but this time
there are many more nights to come

the sun hasn't set
and i can't foresee
that it should
anytime soon

I thought perhaps she would have held me close to her forever
but instead so far i've gotten more

what to do with these millions
i bathe in riches
and what have i done to deserve it?
i hope not to find out for some time to come

Sunday, December 28, 2008

It seems to come just so naturally to her
a whirlwind passes through her like over a pretty prairie meadow
no clumps and dead ends between buildings
and tremendous wastelands,
no maddening boundaries forcing the eye to see further than it was ever intended to.
never a sewer to sap the energy and drain the muck.

altogether and one whole thought,
molded in such a beautiful wavy and deep rhythmic flow of sound enveloped in sweet forgiving air..
without even the purpose to heal those of us fortunate enough to receive its nostalgic currents here in the city.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Quote of the day:
"She could see my penis in my eyes"

Monday, December 8, 2008

De beneficis

Forget what you know
you think you know
And what you know you know
or at least think

be nothing
which wants

sit down beside me,
see nothing
of the rolling hill or the tree here
silent over the warm evening

let your mouth release you
i am on guard
and so is our tree

exhale your remembrance
there is no country

what you have built is yours to keep
or yours to give