By Ruhudeen Ali
October 15th, 2011
*Note - My apologies for the ugly-spacing but for some reason I can't undo these errors without a great deal of annoyance. Please bare with it, thank you.
It's the thirteenth hour in the hermit's lair
I raise my sleepy head
I eat what gluttony has time to prepare
In view are these swaying trees and starry nights.
The sleepy bird gets no worm, just more sleep.
Business in the marketplace, first thing
You see, my industry is entertainment
Story-telling and errands by day
Dreams and pastimes by night
Forgotten by the morning.
Constantly on the stay, I slowly catch hedonism's headlines
In my embroidered sheets and decorated bed
Tired, I read the hollow pages
"Now then, how many nothings happened today?"
Relationships just get in the way
I understand, you see, I'm a busy man myself
Who has time for romance when there's lust?
See here my important matters, see how consumed I am
and yet see what is missing.
In the womb, kicking with resting
In the world, patience with comforts
In the after-world, questioning with anxiety
And more resting.
Therefore, do not make my tombstone tall
Nor trouble yourselves over eulogies
My junction with time is brief
My life of sub-stance, null.
Just do me one favor, if you will
When it’s my time
Let it be known that I toiled and struggled hard.
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