this she reveals
the rest she hides
her parental
heritage
besides
on the crest of her
womanhood
the hijab rides
beauty
dignity
grace
inside
outside
in the soul
of the hijab
faith
of a muslim
woman resides
to wear it
or not to wear it
who are you
to decide
white western
satrap
the muslim
woman
replied
you die each morning
before the day begins
man a product of
his ancestral sins
infecting with his poison
his kith and kin
through death
a battle we
sometimes win
before they dump
our corpse
in a garbage bin
living on the edge
through thick and thin
a garment of modesty
enhancing
the soul of the mother
sister daughter wife
the hijab
keeps muslim
womanhood alive
a garment of modesty
enhancing
the soul of the mother
sister daughter wife
the hijab
keeps muslim
womanhood alive
to tell him
i have finally
recovered
from the deadly
viral of a bloggers flu
i am hale hearty and well
only my pictures my blogs
my poems in my lifetime
will not selll but once
i am dead and gone
my next of kin might make
some money they tell
my hijra pictures
my hijra poetry
the only two
domes of delusion
where all my
readers dwell
from up above
in my hellish cell
fondly generously
i will remember
fred anthony posey
benn bell
my dear brother glenn
my best facebook friends
who always wished me well
gnaulz off romeo davide michel
roland w luthi bernie
i bid them all farewell
those whom i had blocked
at flickr facebook
will say fuck
let him burn in hell
a positive spam
he deserves it
all very well
waking up
from my reverie
a phone call
broke my magic spell
a blog is an ocean within
the soul of a sea shell
when they carry
me home
to the crematorium
my poems my blogs
in memoriam
morning to night
hitting the keys
ad nauseum
to the leaping fires
i will succumb
i did not want
to be eaten
by worms
maggots
people trampling
my poets grave
to the crematorium
for my last rites
i did come
a dead poets hell
is better for me
than a heavenly
kingdom
a blog goddess
my eternal muse
i will live
under her thumb
time to me
rhyme to rhyme
my libidinous
poetic angst
i will plumb
her slave
her knave
forever
i shall
become
in the fragrance
of her
cherry plum
chopped
sliced
minced
poetry
the only form
of expression
that comes
freely to me
through fluttering
wings
of words
i set these
pigeons free
perched
on an internet
cable wire
bird like words
what i shoot
is what you see
from flickr
to facebook
to twitter
twittering
to be or
not to be
molded
as a poem
on a potters
wheel
a pitcher
for the
thirsty
