Saturday, November 29, 2014

The King's Rock

Our  nethermost region.

Kay Hassan

 Stately, with all his passions  under a mighty  rock,
Likewise, oft in all his wars had shed his blood
It was the to miracle of his seven labours
That has never been sung with:
 Daf, drum, flute and dulcimer

Nevertheless, he was a man of  his trade
Had never played with  the shadows of  Word
 Rebounded   or bragged like the heights lord 
But , like the  sibling-of the mighty rock  
Stuck bravely to the heart of the faith
But, the  emperors  guards has  reached him-
 in his blood soaked sanctum
Riding- with long rifles and swords
"Ready ?" They shouted nearby,
And  galloped through the tearing winds,   
 Composing songs for their uncrowned King

A thousand hearts cracked, or shredded 
on the oak covered giant rocks
 the tears fell upon the nethermost garden
Where the.enchanted  souls were
floating   across the sacred  red valleys- 
 with perpetual uproar , and climbing  the rocks-  
Departing through the meandering roads to exile.  

Years, are messing  up day by night 
His shelter, lionized, like the Dome of the rock.
Exposed to dust and rain, 
 acquired the  fame in the waste,
 Like a giant brain of West    
The empire times, turmoil-ed  over years
And  awakened  him for another round.

'Alas,' we screamed, after a ninety years 
When for  the taste  of Mongols'  Paper* ,
The prides of the heights' lords scattered 
Upon the dwindling of -king's rock's-chemistry  

Chieftains sat on their eggs,*
 Loosely, dangled  their legs
From the thousand  sides of the rock,
 Smoking-in a chattering mood.
"Hey,”  unto the their clapping folks
say the chieftains of many
“May I ask the historian one question?
 How many chieftains and men of glory
have dangled their legs down- 
From the  to of the king's rock

Brothers, there is no a stranger  among us
in this  valley.
 I say 'History  is tongueless, 
but certainly,. I am not'
To all who set eyes on the treasures, and land ,
The sermon  is done 
we are done. 

The last chieftain has died in January 
Cursed  in his frosted  bed. 
His  face was frozen                                             
 like the eyes of shark
Failing  to  catch  the din of the crowd
and Vicar's sermon on the king's coffin
A voice whispered 
"Beware of the dogs' bark.
Beware of your brothers'  bark."
*Paper: Cash; Mongols introduced the world to the Chinese Note.
* Testicle.

Monday, November 17, 2014


Kay Hassan

Across the quiet avenue,
 Opposite to our house,
On the  east side of the hill ,
Forever, lived Adam and Eve,
Neither were breeds of Paradise,
Nor once walked across the hell

They were so filled with  years,
That, the dreary time of  the great war
For them.
Was just a boring detour in the way
And  the  vulgar rabbit stalking day
Was the politicians U- turn in dismay

Their success was a son in reward  ,
Grew up within the national  standard,
And their  failure was a son   with seizure,
Drowned, into the Hawkesbury  river 

Eve drove her manual car
To see doctors, podiatrists 
or buy new goods from her grocer
Adams dress , was in a perfect fit
Neat and  tidy like his tools' kit. (He was a retired electrician.)
He rode on his bike, and
Toured the neighborhood,  
Or walked  miles on his feet ,
Until someday  he lost the track ,
And could nt find his way back
He  kept asking passers-by ,
 “ For Gods sake, it is too late
Where is Adams parlor, mate ?”

Eve searched  streets and shops
But was forced to call the Cops
Who found him walking on the railway
Somewhere a thousand miles away.

At his rock  bottom  and worse,
Adam lost his life's course,
And among-st  his  daily dismay
 succumbed to the mental decay,,
On other hand; they said  God forbid
For having  a very  weak  grip
Eve slipped on the stairs’ top step
And was found with a  Broken hip,
And some fracture in her rib

And a breast cancer survivor,
God help ye,” said her grieve
And nodded  to her to fill
The fields of  patients relief
In response,  cynically,
She released her last jock
“God, find somewhere else
 to tie up on your rein -less horse.”

She stayed in waed, for so long
That, Adam in his new hermitage
 Melted down into a new love.
 And  was intrigued by a new Eve,

Up a little in fantasy ,
And a bit of  audacity
He introduced Eve to Emma  , 
“This is Emma…This mamma,  
Hi  Cain , Hi  Abel,”  ( Abel was his dead son)
Says Adam to please them
No Adam , this is  Aaron
Our beloved   grandson
 Abel is dead, Abel had  gone,  ”
Said Eve in a great groan.

Your grandson, not mine, mamma,
Make sure and ask my wife  Emma,”

(Eve’s son Cain  got Aaron, and Diana from his ex- wife who  kicks  Aaron out and keeps Diana with her. Diana  is seventeen, and Aaron is sixteen  .. Cains  second wife refuses to let Aaron in with her children, because Aaron got seizure. Cain brings Aaron to live with his mother Eve. I say “Eve.  Most often, I see Aaron play around.  She  laughs and says. ‘His mother is a whore.'  
I say. ‘Whore is not a swear word , ma’am.”
She says. “I won’t swear, man.”

 Eve  trades  her manual car with a  brand new one. We  have to keep eyes  on her. She will drive to the shops and see her doctor and take Aaron to school, however, she tell her nurse. 'I am not anyones concern, anymore.')

(“Hey, it is too early, Eve,”  I say .
“You think you are a wise man, ain't you?” says she
“No you have taught me how to screw the wisdom.” 
“So you want to learn how to die, don’t you?”
“Right.” I say. “I won’t play with words.”
“Then watch me, moron, You don't need words, ” says she.)

Today when Eve came home.
She nodded to Liz’s dog Tom,
Smiled she and burst into tears
To show the dog and me
How the bittersweet of years
Makes out of us frames of toys,
She, yelled and sighed,  
And cursed  her doctors
To teach the dog and me
The rage, when the body
 Out of order and  joy
“Ay. It is a big blow, boys.”

(I understand her time is coming someday, and I look for many words to say, but the dog  barks to blow his  magnificent words- rhymed  with ; Not-now. Not yet.)
*22/07/ 2015
Adam  has  just died ....
We are sad.

Eve  donates  Adam's cloths...

Tuesday, November 04, 2014


Kay Hassan

Oh,chieftains;  semi gods
Of Highlanders,
With the  tittle: Amir Akhur*
For having been  skilled,
 In the stables  of:
And Turk-ia-  ,

You, are vile,
vassal ,

Stop somewhere, graceless beasts,
And take pride in being- highlanders -
They are  usual members,
In the club of  our  Globe
Oh, chieftains; semi gods
Of Highlanders,
If have not been schooled, yet,
Or deny   the pride of your  folk;
Here is the School of Kobane 

* Amir Akur, literally means prince of manger or trough. It was a Medieval - Persian tittle given to the managers of animal stables .-It became  a high management post during the rule  of  Sultans and  Mamaleek  in Egyptian .

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