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I Ken it, Do You?

Volcano erupts
With high frequency.
Little wax
That leaves no trace
Upon the steeple.
Mushroom cooking
Without fire.
Fire in the heart,
Heart beating faster.

Peeled cucumbers
Mushroom! mushroom!
Elixir floats upon the mushroom.
Wasted life gives pro tem pleasure
Life begets life
Haste makes more waste
Slower
Slower
Or, to put an end?
End?
End is itself a psychedelic pleasure,
Even more than that;

Wasted, wasted,
Plastic thought,
Dreams of salt,
Wine of beauty,
What is the beginning?
What is the end?
What is this?
I ken it, do you?

_____Muhammad Shahab.

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Poems

Facing a Brobdingnagian

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From the door came out a giant man
To combat me in an ancient Egyptian arena.
I thought of it a paltry scuffle.

Who could’ve imagined
The battle of a man
So feeble as I,
And a Brobdingnagian,
I beheld before me.
His face like an ancient Gladiator
His arms, steel moulden.
His eyes like a tiger,
Fierce without a sign of fear.
His thighs as if borrowed
From an Indian elephant.

This man I had to face
In a world I had never seen
For you,
I had to fight.
For you,
I had to win.
Was not a world as is today
To win you from some flirts
In a bar, a cafe or a pub.

As I woke up beside you,
In this wooden bed blanketed.
Then I noticed
Not a giant grunting
But you, snoring.

                  _____Muhammad Shahab.

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