امرأة الكُثبان

Caravaggio-Maria-Maddalena-in-estasi-1606_Fotor

في ارضي، لن ترى إلا الفحم و الكُثبان
لا بداية، لها، و لا نهاية
رملا فوق رمل و آلهة من الحجر و غِربان
في أرضي، ستسمع فقط عن جنات عدن و شقائق النعمان
هنا، حيث اللازمان و اللامكان
هنا، حيث عَبدتٌ الحَجر.

وحيدةً تمامًا في الفلك،
فلا سماء زرقاء و لا قمر
ارضي، هذه التي اكتسح السواد رملها
و جفت نسائها و لقت حتفها
ارضي،
ارضُ الرماد و الفحم
ارضًا ملئلتها الذكور أمُم
ارضي..
ارضُ الصدأ و الموتى،
أموطنًا انتِ أم منفى؟

Continue Reading

حُلم

a dream

حلمت بالأمس بأن الامنية قد ماتت
و بأن الاغنية قد عاشت

حلمت بالامس بأن هذهِ الحياة كانت تسقط من اعلى كالمُذنب

مني تقترب و بكَ تحترق

حلمت بغياب الامس
و بطلوع الشمس

حلمت بالسماء و بسكون المطر
حلمت بك… و كنت انت السفر

كنت انت.. و كنت انا
و خلفنا القمر

من اي انتظار قد جئت؟

خشيت ان استيقظ قبل أن اعرفك
خشيت ان تغيب و ان افقدك
خشيت الحلم!
و بإن إستيقاظي سيهجُرك

 

Continue Reading

A Man on a Cliff

Miranda_-_The_Tempest_JWW

I am a blocked volcanic crater
I burn my own skin
Going dry, going slim
Going all the way to him
I am the waiting siren
At the end of your swim.

I am the stone that kept you
On a cliff
You’d think you’d fall from a breeze,
Or a passing whiff—
But darling, not even a firestorm
Could unleash your tethered feet.

Suffocated in vain—
I prayed for the droplets of your rain
To slowly dissipate my heat
And cover me in mist
And all the feelings I missed.

The man of charcoal and ashes,
Still hanging on a cliff
Blind, deaf, and stiff.

Darling, the lavas are stepping closer
To burning you,
Burning me.

 

Continue Reading

M Train by Patti Smith

patti smiths II

Patti Smith is an incredible writer. She’s such an iconic musician and a very interesting person and all that awesomeness is magnified when she writes. Seriously the amount of her coolness and intellectuality is very admirable and she won’t sound pretentious for reading so many books and knowing so many cool people, she’s just a lovely poet who reflects modern life in an artistic way. She will take you for a walk in her favourite cafes in NY to daydream with her, she will describe the beaches for you and you will almost feel the breeze and the smell of the sea. She doesn’t stop there; Patti also challenges time; yes, you will listen to her talking with the dead. The dead are the writers who influenced her and spoke to her: Mrabet, Bowles, Aira, Bolaño, Burroughs, Rimbaud, Plath, Mishima, Murakami and Bulgakov are almost present and alive. She visits them and talks about them.. With them.

She also masters her words so well; like she can make an old dusty bar seem magical; a room in a Hotel is a scene from a classical avant-garde film, the objects are stories to tell and the places are here for her to experience. Things are NOT just things with Patti; she’s a Buddha who writes proses and verses about normal things and turns them into a guide, a new way of seeing things. A pictorial sort of writing. She makes time stops.

And at last, you won’t hate her because she writes better than you, you will love her because she’s only teaching you to be even better for she will teach you how to feel.

Continue Reading

The Passion of Ishtar

passion of Ishtar

Of Ishtar and the transfiguration of Tiamat

Of a land between two rivers, sing I
I—The divine coronated of the eight stars
Etched by the men from Mars,
I—a star Venus
Alone I stood ahead of Cetus.

Carved in clays and stones,
For the sinuous serpent had me lacking bones.
In a chest of seashells
In Gold—
Gold and skin mold,
I stood.
My feet of stones shattered
Of the standoff, what mattered?
I wondered.
I am near collapsing.

Continue Reading