Tanka # 210

She didn’t feel
the frost on her skin
until it melted
under the warmth
of his fingertips

~

مشّطتُ شعرها على مهل
وقبّلت الندى على كتفيها
ثم جلست بينما استلقت هيَ
وأمسكتُ القلم وسال الشعر
حبرا على بشرتها

~

Things break,
people die,
friends and lovers
go into the night
and return no more.

Adam and Eva

Like wine in a cellar
this art of touching her
is something that has brewed
for a lifetime within me;
now and then it comes out
as poetry,
now and then
when it cannot be contained
and its flashes
flood through my veins
and its wave carries me
to the wood where we always met
in the deepest recesses of my memory.

I remember to come back
to the future where we are
and I complete the circle
as I write to you know
this love that is within me.

Haiku # 689

The rain is falling…
in silence we sit
listening to the rain

~

كالتائهِ في الليل
بين الكلماتِ أتبع الضو
 الات من بعيد

~

Winter evening –
in my heart the slow burn
old memories…

~

Everyone have left
the road of my life
deepens into the sunset

I lost my sister to cancer on February 03, 2015. This week the doctor told me that my mother’s cancer is terminal, and that her life expectancy is a few months at best.

Wandering Thought # 104

Contemplation has always had to battle against the values of the market, but in no age did these values reign absolute as they do today. They are upheld religiously — and therefore, invisibly — and have sneaked in to transform every institution and discipline, including that of philosophy, from the ground up. In addition to having made the life of man uninteresting and small, they have also made him increasingly stupid. Soon he will have to relearn his most basic skills — seeing, hearing, reading, thinking. They never allow him a moment’s rest as he is constantly pushed to perform and produce. They are the ultimate tyranny, seen by none, upheld by all.

Wandering Thought # 103

When you remember, which comes first, the image or the feeling? I venture to say that it is the feeling that calls out the image and frames it, giving it its depth, hue and texture — it sears it, as though in fog. Many feelings remain after being uncoupled from their original images, and so they create images of their own. This is well known to all poets and artists.

Wandering Thought # 102

What I find deeply disconcerting about science is its will to reduce everything it touches into the realm of knowledge — i.e. utilitarian — thus dispelling existence of every shade of mystery. In such an atmosphere that is deeply antagonistic to poetry I find myself suffocating and unable to tolerate life. The good news is that this endeavour of science is futile, in that it is impossible to reduce everything into the realm of knowledge; the unknown remains, and the shade of mystery cannot be dispelled; poetry cannot be vanquished. The bad news is that science may well destroy life and the world before coming to this conclusion and admitting its childish aspirations. The link between poetry, mystery, and ecology is unmistakable. It is what we hope will one day bring science to its senses, making it aware of its own limitations. Hopefully that day won’t be too long in the future.

Reading a Good Book

The phrases of the book
like twigs twist and turn in every direction,
and soon I am walking a thick forest
with no thought of return,
to find a cabin in a sunlit clearing
and live in it for a while.

But the book ends
as every journey must,
yet, leaving its forest,
I carry it with me,
feeling its sap of words
flowing through my veins,
and growing, silently,
for many months and years
new leaves of meaning.

Wandering Thought # 101

We all coexist with the idea that the people we love might disappear at any moment, though this idea, in the every day life, only occupies the fringes of our minds. But when someone you love has cancer, the idea becomes central, and it moves to occupy the entire space. Managing your emotions while going through this is one of the hardest things a human being has to do.

Haiku # 688

This life is a journey
with footsteps lost
in winter snow

~

Winter night
with the fire of a book
I warm my heart

~

Like rivers in the night
his words travel
the curves of her skin

~

حبرُ كلِماتي
بذورٌ أزرعها
في تربةِ بشرتها

~

الشمسُ على بشَرِتِكِ
في فَمي تذوبْ
كخَمرٍ عُمرُهُ ألفَ عامْ

~

Like snow unmarred
the poem
I do not dare to write

~

Heavy rain…
my heart is just a window
on a sunlit plane

Haiku # 687

وضعت فمي على فمها
كأني بين شفتيها وجدت
مهد الشعر والنبيذ

~

نمش بشرتها
الخريطة التي بها
أعبر الى النجوم

~

أبدأ نهاري
وأنا أرتشف الدفىء
من شفتيك

~

كالثلج الأبيض
يستقر العمر
في شعري

Like white snow
age settles
on my hair

~

Tea on a cold night
finishing a book
and starting another

Wandering Thought # 100

The years move on, and the things which seemed so important become trivial; time and loss have a way of distilling life to its essence. The years move on, what remains now are the simple things that were there all along, waiting in the quiet. The years move on, and we start making friends with our own disappearance; how well can we dance the dance before saying goodbye?

Free Verse # 451 (a strange kind of flame)

Et je me suis endormi
envahi d’une étrange chaleur,
comme si la tête
de la femme que j’aime
reposait sur mon épaule,
comme si le poème
que j’avais lu le soir
s’était allumé en moi,
me réchauffant du dedans
par une étrange lumière.

~

يقول العلماء
أن أجسادنا مجبولة
من غبار النجوم؛
المسك
ويحن الغبار فينا
الى أصله،
فنتوهج قليلا
أنا وأنت،
ونشع بضوء
أضاء الكون
من ملايين السنين.

~

I kissed her wounds; I made love to her silence; I looked into her eyes, as into the endless sea; I felt her heartbeat, and I gave her my own.

~

La lumière des pensées se nourrit de la même nuit que celle des étoiles.

~

ما يربطهما
أعمق من الليل،
أوضح من النهار،
أبدي كالزمن،
متجدد أبدا كحقل ربيع،
كخرير ماء الجدول؛
ما يربطهما أغنية
أوسع من الحياة،
أغنية تدور كالصوفي
في قلب الله.

~

He attracted her slowly
like spring lures the flower
to unfold its petals
one by one

~

You can take the wolf out of the forest, but you cannot take the forest out of the wolf.

~

Night falls
and her skin fills
with a soft glow,
as though she had a moon
living inside.

~

Your name makes
a strange kind of flame
as I whisper it into
the darkness of the night

~

Rich beyond belief
if I had you now
here with me