swifts  &  s l o w s · a quarterly of crisscrossings

world wide stage
M A Shaheed

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Blown

They got scared when becoming aware
that there is no place else for them to go.
In your case, there was no plan to take you
along anyway. In his sick mind he thought
he’d just go outside and then jump straight
up.

Going from being called a human to becoming
a chemical agent. The basis of his achievements,
come from others he thought he could hide inside
some special book ,then take for the ride to outer
space. He got busted in cyberspace.

In the fray of trying to get away he left more stuff
to duck, then spending more bucks to clear the
debris so he can see the beginning of time and such.
His path’s cluttered with collateral damage left for
innocent families to manage.

Taking pride in genocide while indulging with whiskey
and soda. Placated to a fault. Unable to disengage from
the rage performed on the world-wide stage, has eliminated
any shame, just go on continuing to blame the other guy.

Sitting at the corner table not able to catch a break.
Smoking tokens instead of cigarettes. Got addicted to both.
The trouble-shooters are shooting at me. Adjusting my eyes
to plain sight is easier than it used to be. Having college
knowledge don’t pay as is advertised on TV.

Knowing the lies won’t continue to work they have to rely on
gun play. No more four seasons in effect, all that has come and
gone. I don’t think you can choose the news your mind volunteers
to hear. Left alone to chew the bone that given to you last year.

Kept unconscienced by the punch line every time you think
you’re clear. Gun control means keeping the guns from you.
Switching all the nouns around then telling me they are verbs,
that absurd is not a word. When I say I’m going through a phase
admonishing me and smiling say no sir that’s a phrase.

I start doing a ballroom dance to Chinese music, while jazz is
playing in another room. The person next door told me that his
daughter was now the groom, I wasn’t really sure to whom I was
speaking, when it took off in front of my eyes on the kitchen broom.

You think this could be happening because the circumstances have
both of our minds blown? No cease and desist with any of this, I’m
afraid the ability to stop is all gone.

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Proet M A Shaheed was first published in White Motors newspaper under the name of Clyde Shy. In 1963/64 living in Stockholm, Sweden, he wrote stories for a photographer whose pictures were sold to newspapers & magazines. M A  Shaheed played bass violin with major Avant Garde musicians. In 1966 he joined the poetry workshop, Muntu Poets, headed by Russell Atkins, noted Avant Garde poet and composer along with well- known poet and playwright Norman Jordan in Cleveland, Ohio. At the end of “68”,  he began to work on his spiritual development and stopped writing for 3 decades, but was driven back to his pen by a clearer understanding of the real reality. He has since published 44 books, been in numerous anthologies. The genre includes novellas, poetry, short stories and Flash Fiction. “My goal is to keep writing until I stop, until I can no longer hear.”