Almost a Fantasy

Verses

It was a glance

Just a glance

Our hearts melted

A soft jasmine breeze

 

You heard me sing with

The first notes of your nay

Song bird (albilbil) amongst the reeds
Our eyes turned brown to blue

 

We talked and sang old songs

We sipped tea, ate oranges

And talked and longed (ached) for

What could never be

 

Verse in other maqam and rhythm

Tea and oranges

Old and young

This tribe or that

This and that

Do they matter

Why? Why?

 

Chorus

Never to be

Just a dream

Almost a fantasy

For you and me

 

June 2025
A first attempt at writing lyrics
with a nod to Um Khalsoum and Leonard Cohen

so beautiful

simply... so beautiful
a smile brighter than 
the golden sun in fall
that colored your hair 
and forged your eyes
sometimes hazel
sometimes ice-blue

but that beauty pales,
is out shone, by your
truer golden glow,
and a peaceful warmth,
all from the more genuine
beauty that radiates from 
your pure and passionate
heart and soul... 

Almost

a poet that never penned a song...
    almost 
a love that might have been...
    almost
a problem never solved...
    eulerian 

a road not taken? 
    just stop now

all the opportunities missed
shots not taken
investments not made
all the wouldas and shouldas
and missed kudos
    water over the bridge
    wind in the dust storm

almost... almost 

flatulating bull speaks

writing a second poem today 
whilst watching westerns, alliteratively,
bat tombstone wyatt palladin and 
a maverick ranger but no zorro
no pecos anyone wild, bill, or other

nothing deep or existential 
no awe, angst, or wonderment 
no depth, no passion, no insights
no worries...

what is this poem doing here?
(well... it is lame)

deadrock reservation
june 2025

this cannot possibly help

the lifelong longing
for some elusive else or more
is it a greener grass thing?
a spiritual emptimess?
plain old materialism?
a wee bit coveting?
or just too much tv?

i am not alone
we all are not alone
yet... too many of 
the billions of us feel so...
in this teeming petri

too much time to what?
think? dream? ponder? 
fighting to survive...
oh, that the fighting 
was muscle and brawn
sweat and sinew
sword and shield
(the word drone perfectly misfits)

no that side of the fence
is hard scrabble where
too many die too young

this side is all steel, glass,
and concrete thoreauly 
in self-help desperation

somewhere under the rainbow
june 2025 

i sip your name

i sip your name
every sabah, dawning moment
i sip your name
etched in the rich woody
berry peaty bitter chocolatey
steaming swirls of brown and
beiged brewed complexities

i sip your name
jezvehed and poured into
maroon ornate demitassed cups
i sip your name, once more
it opens my soul
making me, oh, so happy
and oh so sad

i sip your name

uninspired

yeah...
another attempt at
attempting and tempting
where tempering
rather than this moronic
play on words is the
only prescription

it was clear, quite clear
before the ellipses
this weren't to be
no how, no way
the illiadic start of
my very own oddyssey