Dangerous Games

Everyday’s but just a game. Just play along.

Picking up the pieces of fallen scented petals, th…

Picking up the pieces of fallen scented petals,
the remnants, the broken pieces and what’s left of it.

Picking them up piece by piece,
clearing the way to put things back to where they belong.

The magic red carpet ride is over,
“A Whole New World” that’s not so new,
no apples, no birds flying past with a squeak, no catching of clouds in hands,
definitely not the works of a magic lamp.

But comes the magic of red, noise, gambling and family.

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February 15, 2007 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Arabian Nights A child born into the midst of sa…

Arabian Nights


A child born into the midst of sand and stone cities.

Brought up innocently in the markets of the Arabian sands,
surviving in the danger and harsh conditions was tough.

So begins the Tales of the Thousand Arabian Nights
as he took solace in the stories that his companions fed him.
The tired one talked about the search for pride,
the idealistic one talked about not caring what the world is and doing what he thinks is right,
the unlucky one talked about how his luck is changing for the better,
the loud mouthed one talked about worries and a future in which he has no plans,
the confident one talked about how other stories are of no matter,
the one in love with sun shine talked about reality.

Despite the companionship of his friends,
the child braved the sandy storms to see the world.
He reached an inn,
cosy and comforting as he waited to rest the night.
A lady most well dressed caught his eyes as she eloquently
talked of her adventures,
like a passenger of turbulent time.
Tales of dead ends, of beauty, of unconditional friendships, of partings,
of truth, of pain, of bloodied walls and tales of loss.
Days looked bleak and dark as the child continued his journey.

His legs brought him to a City high up upon the piles of sand.
He listened as the Tales of the Thousand Arabian Nights
were continued by prophets and chiefs who have seen more of the world
than a child like him.
They spoke of their valiant achievements, the battles that they fought,
the foes they crushed, the tales of two cities, of failing bonds,
of distance, of the struggles of brave heroes who prevailed by persevering under circumstances of all odds stacked against them,
of thieves and robbers greatly despised but able to disguise under the mask of darkness
and how to untrained eyes they seem like princes of untold fortunes,
tales of patience, of numbers, of hope, of hard work, of lying merchants,
of growing up to be a real prince, of fighting thieves, of saving damsels,
of dangerous roads less traveled, of the beautiful ladies of the wild Arabian sands,
of tavern gossips, of the town criers, of right and wrong.

The child lay still in the cradle of warmth he calls home,
recalling the Tales of the Thousand Arabian Nights.
Every tale taught a different lesson,
every tale said a different thing,
every tale an ideal,
every tale a path to choose,
every tale a wonder.

So who’s to say what is wrong and what is right
even as the child contemplates his next destination in the
vast sands of the Arabian Nights.
The stars shone bright in the cloudless sky,
the flickers like gentle whispers soothing the child’s young mind
as he fell asleep,
in the cradle of warmth he called home.

A child born into the midst of sand and stone cities.

Brought up innocently in the markets of the Arabian sands,
surviving in the danger and harsh conditions was tough.

So begins the Tales of the Thousand Arabian Nights

February 15, 2007 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment