Chapters of a Memoir Concluded

A man can marry up to nine women
Or twenty
He can further seduce greater than many
While thinking of new paths to sedition
That commands longevity.
He can express in “young women”
Each word to be replaced with a woman at every use,
Verily, his life becomes a bad destiny of words  
As no woman can replace the word “God”,
Or connate both a God and a woman
Or just a God and a woman!
 A Body drenched in fear is not a body,
 Even if you shake it unto thee, kissed it
 Or walked together yet the little while,
 Even if you slept with it
 Overnight or after sunrise
 In the library, on the street,
Or in the bone room,
 Even if you tried to upright it
Or rain on its parade
 Verily, It will not be a great achievement
 Like all ways, we try out to be able to fall asleep!
We know what will happen
If all men turn
Hunters
And could catch women in the murky water.
We know that a woman's hand
With God’s will
Throws a stone into a pond that is still
And water original clarity can be regained.
At night, I lead the gulls to the sea
Once crying loud
And once, meditating fear
To conquer, if they were left behind.
I lead muds deluded like humans
To think that long roads
Are only a first step
Followed by others!
If life was not good from the very start
It will never be good enough for the rest of the time
Like a desire that cannot be hit more
To rhyme ourselves to learn from!
Mirage and oblivion are alike
They were not found to be examined
rather, to be a constant topic
Of our talk.
In each room, there lies a couple
Boning
Cuddling
Or contaminating each other's clothes
If broken
One leaves alone to another place
If melting
Their routes receive a path to the same destination!
Your love ended not on my schedule
Even if I go to an island
Or to the pole
Even if I become an important man
Or my stories perforce preoccupied the memory
of things.
Your love ended not in my hand
Nor even out
It will heartbreaking
If the tree were a human being
And would set fire to something!
O sleep
Why are you so bleak desolate as if you were
A ghost caught in the woods?
O language
Why do you squire anyone anywhere
Whether he tries to say joyful words
Or considers distorting an image of glare
Although you are nothing but
A final possibility for silence!
I endured hunger
And long days  which make no witness over
The loss of old ones
But my life
Is longer swift to follow
Nor sad to be a pastime!
When your body becomes a home
I will close the windows
And replace books and flowers
I will keep a foot in the small door
Just in case of disappointment In those final days
When I never find my way
home!