Rain Clouds on 280 Main Street

Today is the day,

The young rose became boxed,

The bee no longer buzzed.

Neatly ribboned words,

In neatly stacked boxes,

Additions will not be made.

Angels give a sigh,

Sky sheds a tear,

When a poet dies,

A taste of magic is lost,

Leaving steel on the tongue,

When a poet dies,

The earth rotates slower,

Beauty blooms less,

Today is the day,

That a poet died,

Closed off from the wider world,

Limitless expressions poured forth.

Rest today and forever,

Young Emily,

Poet of the poetless,

Rest today and forever,

Young Emily,

Never known now well known.

Gentle is the rain,

Moody are the leaves,

Mourning the Morning,

On the dearly departed breeze.

©2017 Abdul Batin Bey

Brady's Basil Preparation

It is for the Libration,
of mind and of
spirit that I
write.

It is for absolute freedom,
of religious fever,
sit in silent
room.

Even as the walls tumble,
divorce on the
horizon I still
write.

It is for my own sanity that I continue
to push my own mental, physical boundaries,
etching out my life in green and red flannel,
skipping meals but never skipping tea and coffee.

Pushing myself to get to the other side of that
plastic wall we have build for ourselves in order
to keep ourselves shielded from utmost reality that
we wont be flesh forever, our moments are sacred
and the journey has only started.

I live my life true to myself because to do otherwise
would be death of the self and I
am not ready to die just yet.

Allow me to give up your cereal conformity so that I may soar,
inspire others, to soar, so that we can all soar together,
smooth silky sativa sheets blowing in the echoing wind
free of all restrictions.

Heaven is the place you call bliss and Hell is the place you call torment.
It's all state of being.
Be in the place you wish to be.
Who cares what mom and pops,
sister and brother,
have to say,
at the end of it all its your existence,
your precious hours- so fill them,
Fill them with Love and reach for beauty, Unity of all things.

Paint, write, eat, love, enjoy, do, do, do whatever your passion drives you,
even if food is scarce and you end up locked in a tiny room hammering on
tiny square letters or inking out spaghetti lines on pages upon pages upon pages of
old torn school notebooks in red and green flannels
at least you are living for you.

Follow that passion that jovial pain
even if it means you work meaningless low level jobs of
folding clothes-stocking shelves-pumping gas-giving ass-flipping burgers-would you like another?

So yes I push myself,
too hard too far,
for pennies or nothing,
simply for the love,
the joy,
of creating because it is a privilege that not ever gets to have.!!!!

LIVE!@
LOVE!@
LIVE!!!!!

©2016 Abdul Batin Bey

Days

Days wasted

Glazed eyes

Soft glow

Computers

Phones

Television

The outside world

Its noise

Its beauty

Ever becoming more alien

While the numbness is more and more normal

Days wasted

Days wasted

©2016 Abdul Batin Bey

Pine Nuts on the Floor (Poetic Rant)

Pine Nuts on the floor

Why you Muslims doing this?

Why you Muslims doing that?

You know your religion is backward

You know you hate women

You know that Jesus dies for you

Wait now...hold up... reverse

Why am I being demonized because

Others who share my faith are wigging out

Due to colonial brainwashing but you leave that out

Never seeing your contribution to the problem

Convinced yourselves you're the solution

Really.. is that so..

Let's go ask the Native Americans

Let's go ask the slaves that hung in trees

Lets go ask every indigenous peoples 

See if they speak Highly about you

Oh wait.. that was then... Oh really?

Has anyone made amends?

Righted any of the wrongs?

Just because you want to walk away

Doesn't mean the past is forgotten ok

Karma doesn't view history as you do

Research for a minute all that you have done

Holding the banner waving the cross

Then maybe you will see 

The deranged damage your people have done

Including never excluding the KKK 

Now back to the matter at hand

What's going on isn't nothing new

Started back in 1941

Escalating since then to now

How do you fight a colonial power?

Through terrorism

But until both sides come clean

Living this G.I. Joe cartoon dream

Nothing will be resolved

Hate will simply evolve

To the next generation

Morphing into another situation

Blood, guts, and no one wins

I hate to break it to you

We Muslims are not a monolith

Not some robotic hive mind

We're just like you

Over a billion people is a diverse group

So stop and think before you ask these questions

As if I should somehow know

How terrorist work 

Maybe you should just ask them

I'm on the same face as the planet as you

Wondering the same damn thing

How can people take something as beautiful as Islam

Turn it into an ugly nullification

How can people take something as beautiful as Islam

Turn it into an ugly nullification



©2016 Abdul Batin Bey

Shiraz

Beautiful

Majestic

Home of Hafez

Pools of water echoing

Off the bark of dense trees

I hear poets on the streets

Reciting versus from deep within

Fermented grapes fuels them

Smiling eyes roving

Unique scented flowers

Fill the crisp air

Valley of the Garden

Solar power fields

Cultural mix mash 

On top of the world

The sun feels different

Enriched with history

Even a pebble has a story

Beautiful

Majestic

I stand beyond time

In a place without markers

Smiling faces everywhere you turn

Surely, the Angels live here

Copyright Abdul Batin Bey 2016