A casement of magical spirit shinning
Through the tenement so rugged and free
Find a family in kindred spirits abiding
Wafting together through desert and sea
Free-styled soul, beautified so wholly
Scenting the serene vicinity
In the midst of foul scamps and unholy
The sacredness in sanctity
Such damp, dour and dreary members
Are garbed in sweetness of songs
For all are saints not short of fallen glory
Each holds the tendrils of the other
Sharing such sweet songs, story
Of peace painted in pure order
Worthy of worth and winners
(c)All rights reserved2017



Like a deer in night headlights
Caught between the ragged sheets
The time to wane all delights
Trembling tongues, fierce heartbeats
No words to apt convey
This dark unforgivable sin
Slowly, standing, I survey
The room that has been
Our holy enclave, our sanctuary
An act, cooked by mere minutes
Is writing my heart’s obituary
Guilt gnaws, my desires, my needs,
Packed in a bag filled with regrets
I cooked this real situation
In a fleeting flight of lust
Abandoning pure salvation
Unintended, but I am burst
Now I do offer my heart
Offering to the highest bidder
It is not the greatest art
A little mending, making it better
(c)All rights reserved2017

A man suspected of vandalizing a mosque in Fort Collins, Colo. was arrested Monday. Joseph Scott Giaquinto, 35, was identified as the suspect in the case, after security footage showed a man attempting to break into the Islamic Center of Fort Collins on Sunday morning, the Coloradoan reported, citing Fort Collins Police Services. Police said…

via Man Accused of Throwing Rocks and Bible Through Glass at Colorado Mosque — TIME

POETIC JUSTICE 15 By Mshinaram Warigon Ahrey


On the foothills of Mount Hope
Young Mike lay where he fell
To walk, his legs couldn’t cope
He realized he was in hell
Adrift between life and death
A lone vulture perched on a shorn tree
The harbInger of sadistic death
Out from the dark blue appeared Bree
Kneeling beside Mike oozing love
And offered a silent prayer
With soft gentleness of a dove
She took him home to care
A cultural war raged unabated
To break the leg of this love story
Days and nights, she cooed
Songs of hope, and fed him love
His heart ne’er felt so good
Yet a Higher plan lay above
But Bree carried on  undaunted

not desired or unwanted
Mike finally entered eternal glory
Leaving behind Bree, a folorn wench
Finally, the vulture laughed last
Glorying in the new sadness’s stench
Still, Bree hoped and sang sweetly
Beneath the Mount of Hope



Time stands still
When the voice of power
Resonates through the complex mazes
It cuts deeper than two-edged sword
It heals the broken-hearted
Strengthening to the weak
A voice of reason
Gives a reason to love
Such power, every hour
Reminds us not to be dour
But sweetens love if sour
The voice stills the winds
And romances the hills
Ferocious storm cow under the voice
Volcanoes, thunders, reduced to toys
The sound of the voice
Trembles the table of the earth
It kneels every knee
Causing confessions of colourless tongues
The hardness of the voice
Softens the avalanche of troubles
Reach out and touch the voice
And you will find the one voice
That is yours to shout paeans to the Maker
With a backbone of steel, be the Caretaker
Who can pounce a chance
Of having the last dance

Poetic justice 29-By MW Ahrey


My first love laid me secured in bed
My second love has secured our bed
So I love them both
They love me, both
One maternal, adoringly led me safely to my maturity
My dotting other, marked dotted lines of matrimony
From both sides of the coin
Love hath us firmly joined
One had me suckled on milk to stay alive
The other is without a silk and yet a wife
Mama shingled up the roof,cleared immoral grasses
Mami singled me out to dance in all amoral graces
Mama chose my friends with moral cover
Mami chose to cover me as my true lover
Ensconced in the best of two worlds
I have am in possession of all my goals



To her he wrote
Words of his thoughts
“Oh dear, sweet Melody
Of such quiet harmony
You were one song never once sung
Tendrils of grey guilt ought to hang
Around my slapdash neck
I made you a speck
Dumped in a cold corner
Fancied being your owner
Demoting your loftiness in a hiss
I was miserly with my nightly kiss
You prayed on your knees, I tease
Gone away you are, you I miss
Your unvoiced, patient presence
Never before had such prescience
So apt and devotedly abandoned
Too late, I seek to be pardoned
Were the cloying ground
That forever had you bound
To be the opening prayer
Of a forgotten soothsayer
Would have had me reformed
In darkness my heart deformed
Now the tigress that wears your shoes
Gives but delicious troubles she stews
My tears are twitching with stones
Hurled from disagreeable crones
A mother and her daughter upon me
But by your sweet side I’d rather be.”
She has gone with the joy
He’s a sorrowful big boy
Who is left with sorrow’s shadow
Bereft of his then stead and ardour
(c)Warigon 2017



I opened my eyes
Wholesome brightness stole my senses
I Froze like dry ice
I gathered my wits, sat on the lush grass
I was basking in the heart of Eden
The salad of sounds, intricately diverse
I toyed ‘round the tree forbidden
Alone, I yearned for one to converse
The gossiping trees
Sheltered the sonorous birds
No one here to tease
Or the gnawing tension ease
Cried I to the carefree birds
For my missing rib’
‘Give me a tip about my rib
A crib is not a crib
Awaiting a cup of love to sip
If my rib isn’t here to sip
From the golden gourd of love’
Albeit unclad, I ruled my kingdom
Till I swam in a brook of boredom
I was the one master of all that I surveyed
My subjects paired, Eden wasn’t yet home
Suppliant, my supplications were conveyed
For Adam must have an Eve for greatness
Cementing complete empire of happiness
The smoke from the fires of my desire
Lodged favoured in the nose of the Master
So when He came in a ball of fire
He favoured my wish
Granted me a niché
From the blue cometh sweet slumber
To which my senses sweetly surrender
Deep into an oblivion where angels dread
I found a Lovers’ Lane and there I tread
Whilst a plan secretly hatched
I opened my eyes, to a touch
Soft as silk, gentle and mild
I drank into the eyes of Eve
From the animals in the wild
And the fish flying without a tiff
My rib is home
(c)Warigon 2017



Don, don’t thump the Mexicans and the Blacks
Fists of finesse, heart of gold he lacks
He turns logic’s reason on it head
A beautiful country he hopes to lead
A cannon, unleashed, loose
In tirades smelling of booze
Spewing slews of hatred’s vile venom
Vituperation strange to known norm
We see a wild snaking weaselly worm
Worming to majority, worrying some
His jolly peers strive to knot tight world peace
He stirs the hornet’s nest in his constant diss
A scion once an example so sparkling
His rants, tantrums, infernal cacklings
Spring like a witch scolding all and sundry
We fathom not where he sets a boundary
Riding on the controversy’s coattails for attention
In a wild quest to garner pop and soap validation
His music is full of lethal jabs
Cover him in humble hijabs
Let him ride on decency’s polished wings
For intents and purposes of good things
“Fade out all the cringeworthiness,”I say
Make the Don to bow in an easy way
Should Trumpet triumphs before schooling his tongue
In every level, it’s sure to be for reasons quite wrong
For the Pope to descend and pop from his high horse
To pontificate a Pontiff’s advice from Vatican’s moss
Means the Don must get his loose tongue in line
Then, oh, and only then, would we will be a-fine