أخاف أن أسمي نفسي شاعراً
أمرر أصابعي على ظهرك
تعود الى ذاكرتي أبيات الشعر
التي تعلمتها في صغري كلها
أستظهر بشرتك كما أستظهر الأشعار
نتلاصق ويمر الليل
أين هم - أولئك الذين اشاروا بأصابعهم الي؟
أين هم - أولئك الذين نضدوا الكلمات على الورق؟
إنهم يستلقون بين الأغطية يصغون لملهماتهم
وكبار الملائكة وصغارهم يباركونهم
Come with me, I said, and no one knew
where, or how my pain throbbed,
no carnations or barcaroles for me,
only a wound that love had opened.
I said it again: Come with me, as if I were dying,
and no one saw the moon that bled in my mouth
or the blood that rose into the silence.
O Love, now we can forget the star that has such thorns!
To you, my love
Lover of the sky
And The stars
The one who would pay
Just to watch a natural background
Searching for a shooting star
A symbol of hope in the dark
The little details are the biggest
And I’ll remember them all until
Soft as an easy chair,
Fresh as a morning air,
There's something I want to share,
It's Jesher I can't compare.
She grows in the city of good luck,
Aplace for better companionship,
Gingoog City with love,
The heart of native land.
I don’t have a time zone. And no I’m not jet lagged. It’s just that I’m tired all the time. yet when the world is asleep I couldn’t be more awake.Continue reading
Oh! me in those very known situations,
learning to thrive in those known but unknown situations.
what felt before, a piece of cake,
but wasn't one that appears to be.
then all of a sudden rather appears a rationale opportunity,
changed the irrational behavior and turned to be a completely new me.
So long, those messages begone
never-ending, thoughts forgone
in a box of some chips and wires
those sore thumbs and heart's desires.
Not mind the artist
but oh-so curious of colours,
getting us to paint, a canvas, a another world
where under late moon, around talks of star's shine
those details on and about living life
Silence used to be my prison,
a place and a moment from long ago
that made me feel the most anxious,
Most unsafe and broken.
And back then, it was as if light vanished.
Time flew, things changed.
Silence is now my escape.
My haven, my comfort.
Why do I close my eyes when the forests are dying, bodies of water losing their natural beauty and turning into nightmares, animals crying for help, people suffering from famine and violence, a community of animosity and selfishness is continuously growing at a fast pace?
Why are my ears covered when thousands of innocent children, begging to be nurtured and fed are being abandoned by their parent(s) just because they are not ready for them, the ironic screams of silence and isolation are too loud and are resulting to some serious physical, mental, and emotional consequences, the world around me is shouting for help and slowly tearing apart?
Why do I constantly confuse the smell of poison in the air that I breathe to the smell of a burnt toast, the hazy smoke that surrounds me to a fog, the warming temperature to summer and fun?
Why can’t I taste the difference between a genetically modified food that I stuff my mouth with and can possibly cause my slow death to a naturally and organically grown produce that can help me become healthier and more productive in life?
Why do I go numb and unresponsive to the touch of the fuming monster called technology that we’ve created and fed so much that instead of it being controlled by us, is already controlling us long before we even realized it?
I can fly I can scream
I can warm water fight
I am bird liver lean
Never even, & always obscene
Dripping wax ever so mean
I am light.
I am fright
semi sweet slurred.
I am wonder and fright.
Two feet on the gas,