Protected: The Egyptian

August 15, 2016 Enter your password to view comments.

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A Happy Artist

June 17, 2016 § Leave a comment

I have been stripped off my literary allowance;
a few months now, and the stink reeks off me
for showers a few and misery a scarcity.

it prevents me from virtuous poetry.
glee is a sin, and I need my misery,
but how, in this poverty?

dear friend,
I have promised honesty:
a crime –creative blasphemy.
chains of desperation hold me down,
so will you donate a part of yourself to me?

I need it to write a poem,
rip it out from my skull:
this instrument has been rusty
since bliss made my veins its home.

look me in the eyes, and hand me a memory
from your childhood; I can use any
preferably sprinkled with a tear or plenty.

please, don’t think I use you;
I commit no crime when I do,
it is only a reflection;
when you look into my eyes,
don’t you see yourself too?

New Year’s Day

April 2, 2016 § Leave a comment

The feeling your company brings to me
is like the streets of China
during New Year ’s Day.

And in a dark alley, far in a distant town
a person lies, staring at the starry lit sky
surrounded by the sounds of people chanting in the background.

Their laughs and ditties
do not bother his mind
for he knows they are still naive
and optimistic for this New Year’s offering,
that somehow, a date on a calendar, or certain numbering
can bring about eternal change, this time round.

Like the children, your smile is filled with purity;
unstained by the sorrows life brings,
and free from the chains of greed or its six fellow sins;
like the children, you deliver joy to the old man’s heart,
when even his face cannot smile,
and hollowness affirms its grip on his toes.

With every jump their feet fly from the street,
like hiccups of drunken men, or the hills seen from a lake,
like the man who no longer sees the greenery of trees,
you present to me all beauty in a plate.

So as I lose all hope, and feel myself drowning
in the depths of the cruelty of men,
you hold my hand,
and say, “Look up at the sky.
It’s New Year’s today.”

The First Time We Meet

March 31, 2016 § Leave a comment

Yesterday was the first time I meet an angel.

I was seated with my friend by a table that held a mountain of books, and both of our laptops. After half an hour of discussing equations for our upcoming exam, I saw two women waiting for their order by the counter. One of them had wings, and they were big –so big that it must’ve been extremely inconvenient for her to pass by the café’s entrance door. She carried them gracefully like her smile. They were blue at their core, with feathers white and grey like the sky that cloudy day. Her yellow eyelashes curled up to her forehead, and her hair was white.

To my pleasant surprise, they sat at the table beside us. I could overhear the girl with the magical wings speak over and over, and for two hours, she barely ever stopped. I could not stop looking. I did try, of course. I had to remain subtle or else they’d have considered me a creep. Behind her eyelashes were glittering stars, as though galaxies seen from a painter’s brush. I contemplated walking up and saying anything. I contemplated for a while.

After I mustered all the guts in me, I walked towards them, firmly placed my hand on the table and said, “Excuse me.”

“Yes?” they both answered.

I finally looked towards the winged girl’s friend and said, “I think you look very beautiful.”


Protected: The Meeting

March 21, 2016 Enter your password to view comments.

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The Night Falls

December 20, 2015 § Leave a comment

I have a secret, my lady –
A secret I hold close to my heart.
I meet you every night
And no, no
I don’t mean to frighten you
Please, don’t think so
You see, I once read in the books
Of history and philosophy
That our souls fly up higher than we can see,
When we sleep, they say,
Our spirits fly away

I meet you every night,
Up in the heavens,
We, dance and sway,
Imagined, near the bay
I look into your eyes,
I see your smile
I feel both dead and alive

But don’t be frightened, my darling,
It’s only the books
That say it’s this way,
And I’ve never been religious,
Nor pious, my dear
But a road sign towards your door,
Anyone in sight,
Even that beyond the shore,
Has me willing to drown and fight,
To meet your eyes,
I will
To stream my fingers down the curls of your hair,
As we would on the slides of our backyard
Any sign
That I be reignited
By your presence, once again,
I will battle more and more

And in the day, I will work restlessly,
Until all air in me
Is pulled, in a puff, ruthlessly,
I will wake early
Waterway the coffee,
I’m in no need for a chemical remedy
When I will soon hear the voice of a melody

I will work day, and day
So when I tread to my bed,
My dear, I fall head-down
And sleep instantly,
And hope, these books be true
And our souls rejoice together
For one more night with you.

Protected: eeny, meeny, miny, moe

December 19, 2015 Enter your password to view comments.

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