A. R. Jwailie

Others and Belief

Believing there’s at least someone out, up there, be it human, angel, a demon or maybe a three in one creature! Entails introspection at an early stage through the teachings which have been fed from common sense around, teachers of example, dead or alive, accessible or far away. Unintentionally, I’ve come by angel and demon… Continue reading Others and Belief

Eighteen Square Yards

(I) Two unspoken words Spark in the head, and at once Action utters. Motes of smoke swing along A span of ages, Mess whirls on both sides, up And down and otherwise; A bit of vacuum near the market Empty and clean ready for rent. Vertical to every other, these Arrows unfold as rude offers… Continue reading Eighteen Square Yards

Too Many Irons

Rather than resort to any A glass, if it just goes unpenned Around Is a tongue settled last to aural With elusive semiotics A day of very few what To Do, What for on earth, to be written down, and With a tongue another, thought, playing Monologues Streams of ink water the characters Heaps of… Continue reading Too Many Irons

Scales of Another

Out of spectral-levels perspectives employing interpretations of the accelerating discoveries and ever integrating laws of science, into common sense shockingly speeding as never has been known before; is there any decisiveness to attribute some, indisputably, to truths other than those of Man in the dawn of life, and death, sun and moon, morning and evening… Continue reading Scales of Another

Bloom

As Invisible thorns and decays Address any call to none Behind, the mystic blind hunt Neutralizing all breathing’s Pronouns Until they find them, you. Save all to an infant, you may Adopt Too much terrible than a pet. The day you hear them set to go And how lovingly they pack Their toys You feel… Continue reading Bloom

Attachment

As the fingerboard is set Converts to a runway, ready I wish I wouldn’t be lonelier, that once Down dazzled, a Horrified chicken of doubts. Friend of vacuum never minds Being hollow As long as sharing airs secured Between fingers and lips They could be a reed, or barrel Serving smoke, of a Russian Rolette… Continue reading Attachment

An Image

Of an infinite Oneness, not a zero denominator of an abstract nominator one; earthly stuff, too wild to be polished. It is also an expired scrap to be recycled or invest. To earn only what is worth, not even grace if it is unearned. One should have wondered what amusement found, by the perpetual dwellers,… Continue reading An Image

Test Folly

Unidentified wings are mustering To darkening the dome above What am I, To hunt for Piece by piece Speck after speck From between their widening Clouds, A sky! Ain’t it any creature’s right! Unless it’s not a pet Nor a wolf refuses its doggishness.