Islam's Flower

The Taliban has beaten me and left me for dead But I am stronger then they know, There is no burka that can cover me so Or hide what I think or un-say what I’ve said, Allah be praised for He made the bed From which I give these men life to grow, to Live, to breathe, and blaspheme God so – They've killed my husband, now send me off to strangers to wed. The Taliban has beaten me and left me for dead But I have more power than they know. This burka of fear will be shed From God's true mercy, I am Islam's true flower still to grow! M C Biegner

When

When When twilight When twilight stretches out like a yawn Through clouds The ones that separate heaven and earth When twilight reaches down from sky, Like the arm of Michael the Archangel – Willing Willing to Willing to pull me up – Willing to do battle When Twilight kisses me – When Twilight transfigures – When Twilight tickles me – I am I am made I am made weak When When I am When I am made weak I know I know neither up nor down as up or down But I know boundless possibilities. When When I know When I know I am made weak When I know I am made weak, Then freedom’s grasp is what I seek, When I know I am made weak, Freedom lies spilled white like milk that’s leaked, I know it puddles at the feet of the meek. M C Biegner 2/23/2005

The Pen

Ink drips downward, And obeys a muscular gravity, Races to the point Like it has time to spare, With no place to go; Like a stretched B.B. King note. This point, this needle, this focus of ink scratches at paper With snake-like sexiness As curly-cue round as a Rubens. Then, strings of the heart start to unroll, Pressed flat like a buffet, for you to absorb. And Through eyes like straws You suck up the meaning of ink; You suck up what it means to be lonely; You suck up being shut away from joy; And yes, you even suck up death. Burdened with the plenum of what it is to be human Filling the tube of inky wash that is you All the while Emptying the tube of inky wash that is me. M C Biegner 2/2005