Author Archives: AlbertZayat

Nature

And let my nature
Take its course
Let it live,
with no remorse
Let it stand
Stamped from land
Dressed in colors
Of all, man
And let my nature
Dwell with me
Roped and tied
For all eternity
Let it live
as one
Crafted from here
And there,
and there
to sum
Let my nature
Say to me
You’re made,
you are made of land,
And dressed in colors
Of earthly man
Let my nature
Lay with me
And whisper –
Carpe Diem
Every day
Let my nature
use my time
As a song,
Sung,
as notes,
played
From a minstrels
frolicking rhyme
 
Let my nature sing-
sing my life,
Was spent as best,
spent to the test
For all-
all of gentle
mankind’s, rest.

Reckless Moon

Oh reckless moon

Have you no sense

Don’t you know?

What effect you hold

On this poor mortals

Well-worn soul

 

Oh Reckless moon

You cast your spell

Stirring mayhem

And larceny

On this feckless self

 

Oh Reckless moon

Is that you?

Who dances winds broom?

That sweeps earths room

Kicking dust and lust

And old age rust

Hi above in to skies of white

fluffs

And hawks and doves who

Rescue fools

 

Oh Reckless moon

How dare you,

How dare you

Tinker with the mighty rules

 

How dare you take that which is not yours

How dare you know better than

which

Has been

Solely

Adorned

 

Oh reckless moon

I fail because of you

And succeed as well

And succeed as well before

Anyone can tell

I rush into the wind you stir

And reckless and feckless I live

What I’ve learned.

 

Before the Requiem

Before mornings sun

is done

This boy born as a universes son

Will pack his things

And sift through days

Reserved for him

To come undone

 

Before noon-times tea

Breaks for thee

I rest, and look

Back upon my trail

I left to see

 

Before the afternoon hour

Breaks the wind

And storms with showers

Upon a fools taunting grin

I stand alone

At the foot of heavens throne

 

And there I know

My time, on my road

Is yet sorted out, ahead lay more toil

 

And then, in the shadow

of a gentle twilight

I look and ponder

What do I remember?

What is my insight?

 

Yet with no flashlight,

To illuminate my path

 

And from that day forth

Time marches so quickly

I know that now,

I must move before I see

 

The dark of evening

A place where there is little

Of reasoning

A time when lists of do’s

Replace those of don’ts, you fool

 

Time left only, now

to cull for only those few

Things left on hold for a when a better day, brings

 

And told it is, by natures gentle hints

 

I must be off

No time to be lost

What’s left to do can only be a few?

But the choicest of tasks they are

I promise you

Yes, the choicest of tasks I promise yo

Before

 

Before I wake and face the day

Before the daily weep, prints,

And hits the streets, the same

And tells by those

Whom are told what to say

I’ll think aloud,

Is this my last light?

Of a mornings day?

 

My last in the sun

I’ve spent so many

Some poor and yet some wonderfully done

Alas, now, I know

I have no more bullets

in my life’s gun

 

So before I weep

Or begin to shriek

That my time is gone

No more to keep

 

I find a new song

One of many melodies

And beats of heart

With new rhymes to hum

To carry me along

 

And then I’ll say, I won’t scare this or any day

Nor blink aloud

Or cry to who

 

It’s only a transfer

To your new time

You lamenting old fool

 

And so instead of mercy pleads

I’ll ride my bike

Into dawns new light, you’ll see

And chase the rainbow of heavens end

And chase the rainbow to heavens end

Before I wake

Before I begin

 

Visitation Rites

Through the night

Of dreams, mighty might

I travel to places

that now fill once empty spaces

 

And through those labyrinths

Of webs I’ve cobbled

Memories lay

In traps set

To tease this old fool

By tricks of self-rule

Times, once thought

Some time now thought, forgot

 

Yet still and all

I travel the night halls

Deep inside

Where I express my, rites

For visitations, time

To see, times of mine

Now jailed deep within

a very sleepy mind

 

And there they rest

Comfortably? Or not?

Or do they, then?

Beg to escape, my friends

from spaces behind locks,

Doors thought sealed once and, for evermore?

 

Oh no, I see, I can but for moments brief

Go and travel and tramp quickly I must

Knowing slumber, will soon leave me to rust

 

Quickly I scrap through times once captured

There I find mysteries, witch haunted

Of times once held

Lived in such, great rhymes they hail

And sing and call, OH BLOODY HELL!

 

Come with me, Come my friend

Another encore is at your beck and whim.

Come back, come back, come back and visit me

For, another, encore! You’ll enjoy it you’ll see

 

Come back and look, crack another door.

I’ll be waiting there, but for only a moments, allure

That’s all your visitation rite’s will grant

For times once lived

For times once lived, now stored

Stored so deeply, they can only be released

From their jail so frail

In the midst of dreams

Day or night, if you please

Come play and remember

Come play and remember, it is your rite!

Above the fray

I want to fly

Above the fray

Above the noise

Of daily days

 

I’m sure to fly above the birds

Above the land

Above the hills of

Awkward man

 

Where mindless numb-talk

Is daily spoken

Where life’s daily going’s on

Is often gone wrong

 

I hope to fly high above

High above lost doves in sun

Above so high

Up In the sky

Only angels can I see

So near, I sigh

 

I’m sure I’ll float

And be assured

I’ll float to where

One often goes without a spoken word

 

 

But if I fail

I’ll slip too far

The warmth I’ll feel

will be Evermore

Evermore beneath the sky

A sky that lives

With no rules of mine

 

And so I think, I’ll fall below

And hope I’ll find some of life’s magical glow

For if I live without risk

Then years spent hiding within safety’s mist

Will waste away till there are no other days

And what a blue note

That would bring to this old fool

 

So I want to fly within the fray

Of very ordinary complex days

And in the end I can say of time

Was mine to hold and waste divine!

Detached

Detached:
 
Such a frugal word
Lives among the rich
Yet never heard
Lives within the poor
Where it is often kept score
 
Detached
Says so little
Costs so much
I wonder what is driving, the bus?
 
Within the loss
Of time abused
Reigns a king
Of Sorrows  name
 
Detached is such a little word
Yet climb it does
Within sight of lost doves
Where time and place
Creep neatly into their rite,
PLACE!

I sit

I sit dressed in
Starch white
And blue creased
And there
Across the floor
Is a time once held
For not too long!
Dressed in tapestry
Beads hung over
A peasant’s braid
Boots to match
Leather wrist band too
I’d trade this Rolex
To float back
In that crowd
Well you can’t they say
But they never lived
That day
And all their foolishness
Won’t ever dance, so loud

Sail On:

 

And then I said

This is the end

Of time

Of mine

 

So what now

I see no light

No wind to rush

Me into flight

 

I just sit

On this life’s trip

And wonder how colorful

My canvas did ……

My canvas was. ….

 

And then my canvas

unfurled and I left my slip

No longer just floating

No longer adrift

The Don

From the cup

Of self-importance,

I sipped a brew

Of lasting fools

 

From a river

Of worthless flow

I gained so little

I grew so old

 

From a sky

Of wild blue lies

I held so true

Only to fall,

And crash,

Like some old fool

 

And yet within

My quixotic dreams

I’ve slain more wind

Than ever seen

 

And there I live

With little more

And hope

This- is- real for sure

 

For all I have left

are my right dreams

Quixotic they are, ever-more, ever-seen