Omen Khalid

Omen Khalid

Omen….that harbinger of future events


Tell me mine oh mighty Omen


Not the Roman ravens flying


Or the race of stars across the velvet black of night


That God’s own swimming pool called the Mediterranean


Where all the blooms that make us the soot faced geniuses we are today


Were tended and grown round where continents meet


And trade that made the western world eastern and the eastern west


From the hands of philosophers and poets like me

Come streams of words that less than nothing mean


Puffs of eyeless air that once was breathed by Plato and now again by me

I write the flow you see from these old rivers born of Eire’s land

Where bards grew strong before the English cut them down


I miss all kinds of things


I miss being distracted by love


I miss the glance across the room that promises


I miss the strength that once returned that glance


Eyes that shot the look like arrows leaving bows

Of love and targets who once fell like trees


I saw the picture that I sent you and thought


What man is tall enough to tilt me head that far to see his eyes?

Except for what might have been

Had my birth been on the right side of the world

If I met you on some distant shore

Where only gypsies roam



I am possessed by he who looks over my shoulder…my muse my guide

He sees it all and sees the world and makes me cry and write

You have become a poem now

I will write of you and how the seasons changed

And spirits walked beyond the flesh and met somewhere that bird can’t fly

Omen Khalid


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