Wandering Thought # 97

Whereas in the past greatness was identified with asceticism and virtue, an ability to resist and will, in our days the ideal has shifted towards a life of entertainment, consumption, and laisser-allez, one identified cynicism and vice. What was admired was the man who was able to raise himself above himself, to overcome and control himself, whereas now, a voice hums in his ear, telling him to suckle all he can from the bosom of this moment, for that is all he can ever hope to have.

Free Verse # 449 (listening to the silence)

With my mouth
I lean down to where
the sun kissed her skin,
and I feel the warmth
caressing my lips,
fragrant, succulent,
the sun rays turned to a wine
filled with her essence,
and I drink slowly
as I feel it in my heart,
a love too big
for the earth and sky.

~

Around us
the world turned
like a mad vortex
as we kissed,
filled with noise yet still,
covered with endless veils
yet transparent
as we kissed
and kissed
until the end of the world.

~

I heard her words, but I listened to her silence

استمعت الى كلماتها، ولكن أنصتّ الى صمتها.

~

ان أصبحت شاعراً
فذلك لكي أتمكن، يوماً ما،
من قراءة المجرات والنجوم
وهي تدور في فلك بشرتها.

~

Like a vast kiss the rain fell
as we stood in the river
clasped against one another,
gazing into the distance
as the riverflow went on
disappearing into the fog;
we kissed, then closed our eyes,
listening to the silence
making us one
with the river, the fog
and the falling rain.

Wandering Thought # 96

In a dictatorship or a totalitarian regime the election is only formal, and serves the purpose of giving popular legitimacy to the system in place without allowing any fundamental change to the policies and forces of governance. A people’s belief in the election would actually hinder any real change, and only preserve the status quo and power balance of the system. In Lebanon, any election will be ineffectual in bringing any real change, since the country is governed by an oligarchy of sects, and the actual power is concentrated not in the parliament and not in the cabinet of ministers but in around six sectarian men, with each having his own external alliances and his own internal agenda. The oligarchy is as powerful as the central government is weak and ineffectual. The current political system incubates corruption as a way to survive and to proliferate itself. The current political system recognizes no citizenship and no sovereign individuals, but only subjects who must be used as fuel for war among themselves. In Lebanon there are no left and right parties, but only a form of tribalism that calls itself a democracy. So long as people believe in the illusion and do not stand in solidarity with each other around a shared ideal, change will be impossible.

Letter, August 25, 2020

“For if you desire anything which is not in our power, you must be unfortunate,” says the philosopher Epictetus. Yet, a thousand times unfortunate for desiring you and not having you, than one time fortunate for not desiring you at all. I welcome the fate of your unrequited love, and bless it as a higher fate any other in which I have not known your love at all.

Free Verse # 448 (في سكون روحي)

ولكن يا حبيبتي
كل السنين التي أضعناها
وكل الأخطاء التي اقترفناها
لم تذهب سدىً
ما دمنا معاً، الآن،
في هذه اللحظة المقدسة
متشاركين هذا النفس
وكأس النبيذ
وضوء القمر
ككاهن يبارك الخبز والخمر
كصوفي يطوف حول الكعبة
في قلب الله.

~

A man, just by looking
into her eyes
will become a poet,
yet all the poetry in the world
will not help him
express what he feels
when he looks into her eyes.

 أصبح شاعراً
من نظرةٍ في عينيها،
ولكن كلُّ شعر العالم
لن يمكنَّه من أن يعبّر
عن ما يشعر به
عندما ينظر في عينيها.

~

لوْ كانَ للجَمالِ اسمٌ، لكانَ وجهها.

~

هذا الشِعر – رحيقُ الضَوء وهوَ يرتَدّ عَن بَشَرَتِها.

~

I loved her in the stillness of my soul.

أحببتها في سكون روحي.

~

I will write again
when I feel her move
inside my heart

Haiku # 682

كلما أمسكت قلماً لأكتب
وجدت بشرتها ترتعش
تحت اناملي

~

عينيها النديتين
يخيّل اليّ أن ندى الفجر
يتساقط منهما

~

القليل من الشعر كل يوم
لأتلمس دفء انفاسك
فيهدأ قلبي

~

في أغنية من أغاني فيروز
سمعت صوتك لأول مرة
حبيبتي

~

ليس هناك من حائط قوي كفاية ليقف أمام عذوبة صوتك

Free Verse # 447 (What does the poet do?)

What does the poet do?—He listens to the silence.

~

Sealed in a kiss
this gift of longing
I received from you
is an ever aching thorn
burning in my heart

~

His kisses on her skin
grains of incense
left to smolder
and cover her
in a sharp fragrance
of jasmine and lust,
filling her lungs
with a slow fire
burning up to her mind,
spreading through her blood,
maddening her senses
with an ever growing yearning
to be claimed by their bond.

~

A lifetime is too short
for me to say what I see
when I look in her eyes

~

What helps you live prepares you to die.

~

With poetry I long
to photograph her soul

~

With you, my unknown women
always seated next to me,
I long for an earth-shattering connection,
deeper than the sea,
wider than the sky.

~

Dressed in the form
of the woman I love
God came to me,
and our union was His prayer,
and our kiss His holy wine.

~

Drinking her lips
I slowly take in
whatever God had meant
by blessing the wine,
by giving existence
His breath of life.

Haiku # 680

Drenched in mist
my heart is a landscape
of eternal longing

~

Long after we parted
her perfume lingered
on my trembling hand

~

Moon in the window
the sound of my heart
breaking before dawn

~

Still caught in my throat
the words I dared not say
at her funeral

~

Buddhas in the snow…
their bald heads wet
with dreams of summer

~

Thawing snow…
the Buddha’s head dripping
with dreams of summer

~

The high mountain…
climbing to a world
of wind and mist

~

All the women I loved
in my memory they bear
the image of your face

~

In my secret life
I find her beauty
in everything I see

~

…اسمها
حتى شعري لا يقوى
على كتابته

Wandering Thought # 95

People are avoidant by nature; they dislike taking responsibility for their lives and actions. And because they don’t take charge, they feel, as a result, and subconsciously, that their lives are not going the way they want. This breeds inner pestilence and it becomes easy to get angry over trivial things. The energy resulting from a feeling of dissatisfaction and lack of control needs continual discharge, so things are invented over which to get angry, and life in certain areas grows dark and poisonous. Many people, philosophies, religions, epochs, curse existence as a result of this. Many people need hate and anger to survive.

Wandering Thought # 94

Words, they are the geological forces of the soul, pushing against the toughest and most deeply imbedded boundaries and structures, with great patience eroding, stretching, pulling, transforming, and giving us the tools to control ourselves, to rise above ourselves and overcome ourselves, and shape our own destinies.

Haiku # 679

A day for listening…
in the pine trees
the blowing wind

~

Brume matinal
ma vie semble comme un rêve
qui n’a jamais été

~

Tous les mondes possibles
fondus
dans notre baiser

~

All the possible worlds
melted
in our kiss

~

Beyond the grave
all I’ll take with me
is a ribbon of her scent

~

Rien pour t’offrir
sauf mon cœur
au bout de la nuit

~

I looked into the darkness
and I saw your face…
moon in the sky