امرأة

امرأة بلا اسم (اسمها الشعر)
امرأة بلا وجه (وجهها ضياء الفجر)
امرأة بلا عطر (عطرها الحنين)
امرأة بلا وجود (هي كل زمن وكل مكان)
امرأة بلا صوت (صوتها همس في الصلاة)
امرأة في قلبي
،تفيض من عمق أشواقه
،تغمره ولا تحتويه
،تشربه ولا ترويه
،تحرقه فتحييه
امرأة هي الحب بذاته
.والوجه الخفي للاله

Free Verse # 350 (shipwrecked amid her thighs)

At night I touch my neck,
feel the nook where your fingers
carved themselves a nest
and a poem of unbearable warmth
suddenly fills my chest,
bursts to flame like a candle
with a tender caress lighting
an immemorial past.

~

His words
kissing her ears,
seashells divulging
the secret of the sea.

~

Poète – c’est celui qui écoute le monde exister avant l’aube de bruit et voix, dans la nuit du cœur-soleil.

~

Sa voix s’étendait
sans limite,
un silence intime
coulant du ciel.

~

In the shadow
of our kiss
the bloom
of silence

~

Even as I die
your shining beauty
full moon in the sky

~

In the forest
we leave the dead
where they fall be,
and watch them in spring
become sighing flowers
and wild birds that sing.

~

Her body
a forest of poetry
pronounced sacred
even before divinity,
into the clear obscure
of her spaces
poets wander
and are lost
unto eternity.

~

The poem I left at night
shipwrecked amid her thighs
at dawn flutters anew
and flows from her eyes

~

Her kiss didn’t come
in a single burst,
like stars in the nightsky
it came strewn
all over my life,
over the course
of a lifetime.

~

His fingers
course her skin,
each trail
a furrow of wine and fire
sinking to her veins,
in the soil of her flesh
growing
the essence of poetry.

Woman From The Sea

With disbelief
I look at you,
that, at long last,
love has come to me
in the swaying body
of a woman from the sea,
and my poem
over your endless waves
tenderly weeps,
tears that were forgotten
in the hallways of a heart
that too long lurked in darkness,
lurked without hope,
against hope hoping
that one day love and light
would come into my world swaying
like a limitless sea,
the infinity of a womb
at long last binding
all my rivers and streams
to flow into eternity.

Letter, July 04, 2015

Love has shaken my house, a bird flung time and again by his mother into the open sky. Love shook my being to its very core, and now I wander the streets like a river flooding from door to door, and sweeping, in its onrush, the world’s voices and images, burning them inside of me into the voice and image of you, the radiance of your countenance, the glow of your face. Love uprooted me and with a stern hand it threw me into the fire, laughing in cruel delight. Now I wake, a dewdrop on your cheek, a star in your hair, a freckle in your skin, a grain of incense burning in your censer, exhaling the fragrance of your name into the clear dawn sky. Now I wake, and wakefulness and sleep, willed and unwilled, darkness and light have merged into one, a total transparency of being before your surging light, a simple harmony unfolding me from the tapestry of your silence, the warmth of your breath. All from you proceeds and to you all things return, and I, with all things, grow and die, am birthed and rebirthed countless times from the core of you. Love vanquished me, with a burning foot crushed me to the point of annihilation; and here I am, at this moment, a poem ending itself in the ocean of your breath, a dewdrop dissolved in the rain of your absence.

In the darkness I meet you

In the darkness I meet you,
you whose face my fingers outlined
more times than numbers can count,
you who are closer to me
than the warmth of my own blood.
In the darkness I meet you
and your name becomes the breath
sustaining my life,
you whose flesh in mine lives
as water in the ground.
In the darkness I meet you
and when the dawn comes
my poem rises like a bird
flying across infinite oceans
in search for your sky,
in search for you whose presence
is the meaning of my life.

Calling You Home

Night falls
and in the dark room
I light a candle.
The shadows on the walls dance
and I watch them slowly unfolding
my deepest memories of you,
your face, your voice, your presence,
the way your warmth affects me,
our bond rising from the roots of me.
The flame flickers,
my tears fall,
and my vision sinks
into the rising mist
searching for you.
You spread all around me,
a landscape of absence
illuminated with the tender light
of the weeping flame.
Sleep overcomes my tired eyes
while the candle keeps vigil,
burning an endless prayer
calling out for you so that
through the dark shadows
you may find your way home.

I miss you, Sarah. Your absence is a knife planted in my heart.