Last Call for Lost Souls: a poetry collection

The Last Call: Audio Postcards from Kashmir
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They said my name on the other end. How was I to react from within. So then I denied the allegations. Hung up the phone for this was the end. Left a message my ears where unwilling to hear. They told me news I was shocked to receive. He had done it again and gotten seized. I am still quivering.

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Trembling from the news. They asked me to come in but I refused. Unwilling to accept the reality that she too had been abused. Emily Feb Thx for Calling. The sound of your voice Changes the tone of my day It makes me want to Lay my head on your chest And listen to your heart all night letemflow. Elle Oct Calling my name.

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My dear wonderful Grandad had passed away and one night I heard him call my name so clearly. Death, that great Exit door. I have seen you dead and still - believe it not.

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I follow in the footsteps of your dying speak your name making you come alive again if only in sound living upon my lips. You forever my brother despite what Death says.

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It's yours! See with my eyes! I'll share with you what you can never see. Be me! Every now and then. I've go life enough for two. Carry you through all the world.

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Editorial Reviews. About the Author. Michael Nalbach is an author, blogger, Born Again Last Call for Lost Souls: a poetry collection - Kindle edition by Michael Nalbach. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or. Last Call for Lost Souls: a poetry collection eBook: Michael Nalbach: iltiretlarend.gq: Kindle Store.

Carry you through all the days that remain. The price of this great love. From the first day of the new year, until ten days later, on Yom Kippur, depending on whether the sinner repents or not, his fate is sealed. A single such priest was known as a Kohen, and the hereditary caste descending from these priests is collectively known as the Kohanim.

A Sailor's Tale. Casting spells in a song of lust with such beauty undenied. He's chased her half a lifetime and have lost but all his pride. A great branch leans down from the sky. How long will I keep talking of up and down?

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This is not my home: silence, annihilation, absence! I go back where everything is nothing.

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Anything done to excess becomes boring, except this overflow that moves toward you. Rumi tells her to come back in two weeks. She does, and he tells her again to come in two weeks. She does, and he advises the child to cut down on sweets.

I couldn't. Then I tried again and was successful. Only now can I tell him to try not to have so much. Se can tie knots in your chest that only God's breathing loosens. Don't take her appeal lightly. What was told the cypress that made it strong and straight, what was whispered the jasmine so it is what it is, whatever made sugarcane sweet, whatever was said to the inhabitants of the town of Chigil in Turkestan that makes them so handsome, whatever lets the pomegranate flower blush like a human face, that is being said to me now. I blush. Whatever put eloquence in language, that's happening here.

The great warehouse doors open; I fill with gratitude, chewing a piece of sugarcane, in love with the one to whom every that belongs! This world is drenched with that drowning. You want to know the meaning of phenomenal duration, so you can teach others and help their souls unfold.

Anyone who asks this question has some of the answer. Sow seed corn, Moses, and you will experience the purpose of taking a form. Moses plants and tends the crop; when the ears have ripened to the shape of their beauty, he brings out to the field his blade and sharpening stone.

The unseen voice comes, Why did you work to bring the corn to perfection only now to chop it down? They must be stored in different cribs in the barn. So creation has a purpose. God has said, I was a hidden treasure, and I desired to be known. That desire is part of manifestation.

Listen to their sorrows with compassion. If you want peace, don't harbor bad thoughts, do not gossip and don't teach what you do not know. I am lost in that other. It's sweet not to look at two worlds, to melt in meaning as honey melts in milk.

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No one tires of following the soul. I don't recall now what happens on the manifest plane. I stroll with those I have always wanted to know, fresh and graceful as a water lily, or a rose. The body is a boat; I am waves swaying against it. Whenever it anchors somewhere, I smash it loose, or smash it to pieces.

If I get lazy and cold, flames come from my ocean and surround me. I laugh inside them like gold purifying itself. A certain melody makes the snake put his head down on a line in the dirt Here is my head, brother: What next! Weary of form, I come into qualities. Each says, "I am a blue-green sea. Dive into me! Love is a tree with branches reaching into eternity and roots set deep in eternity, and no trunk!

Have you seen it? The mind cannot.

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Your desiring cannot. The longing you feel for this love comes from inside you. When you become the Friend, your longing will be as the man in the ocean who holds to a piece of wood. Eventually wood, man, and ocean become one swaying being, Shams Tabriz, the secret of God. If you do nothing, you lose. Don't be one of those merchants who won't risk the ocean! This is much more important than losing or making money. This is your connection to God! You must set fire to have light.