Your life and mine
perpetuated with ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’
If we could
write invisible lines from Shakespeare’s sonnets
or glide on the sun rays
or drum away on the Tibetan plateau
or swim among the stars.
If only,
but the sonnets are written,
sun rays are fickle,
the plateau is no Tibet
and the stars are dead
Lend me your hand, Habibi
Winters were long and 25
Lend me your hand, Habibi
Hold me warm
Lend me your hand, Habibi
It’s a long cold night
Who will look at the sun and say,
‘I know this sky, bright and blue’
The blood that flood the sun rays
is what you and I shed
for freedom and liberation
Thousands went up in smoke in the fire of freedom
Thousands shot through the barrel of liberation
Thousands mourn, with their arms spread
Decapitated limbs and torso and heads
fell in their prayers
Salt on his board, sand in his underwear
A stud on waves, entertain a bored audience
Couple pose for pictures up on a dead tree
The sunset is lazy
One by one they all come in
A smile here and a frown there
Through the glasses of a sultry woman
He watches the ocean
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Worry not, Warrior,
the stone you throw
is into the deepest depth
of a beautiful heart
yet to be conquered.
The day she opens her heart
the sound you’ll hear
is not the slump of the stone
but the beat of her heart
that will beat for only you.
All the stones you threw
will come out in sweet kisses.
Like your warrior forefathers,
you will conquer,
but with love and verses.
Like your warrior foremothers,
you will dance with her
in the glittering desert adorned
by the tears of all your ancestors.
ever wondered
when smoke clears
if you will inspire
a stranger to
write a song
about you
give them
sleepless night
see you
in their dreams
feel an ache
for not
speaking
Paint, use brush
the art instructor said
I took the brush to the canvas
he closed the class door on me
use a model, naked
my partner said
I stripped a woman
he took her to bed
use your imagination, raw
my friend said
I drew her
she stopped talking to me
enough! I said
I took a chisel and
carved the heart
out of the canvas
Among poets I sat
Sipping some cheap Chilean wine
Eating words, and smoking clove and mint
Between the laughter and fog
I saw Neruda woo his women
“Such a canny man,” I remember thinking
Shower of rhetorics and they melted at his feet
The night as blanket they followed him
And sweet rhetoric pleasured their blossom
With the sun came invisibility
Their wet mascara ran to break his heart
“I loved you for this night, darlin’
“Don’t kiss me goodbye
“I will love you again last night”
A hungry kiss and the fog cleared
Where’s the Chilean?
I need a refill
(I love Neruda. All out of my head.)
Will you take me to the highlands?
To see the nomads and their cattle?
Will you take me to a brook?
To sit and sing by?
Will you take me out in the desert night?
To look at the stars and marvel at its vastness?
Will you take me to a newly wed bride?
To hold her hands and kiss her cheeks?
Will you take me to a new mother?
To watch her baby sleep at her bosom?
WordsWorthMillions 