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.
Tag: Lebanon
Haiku # 675
My touch in her skin
a wave at dawn unfurling
a white frothing sea
~
Minuit…
dans son visage brule
la flamme du sommeil
~
His touch
a warm sunlight filling
the cracks in her soul
~
Spring twilight
I sip my tea and gaze
at the rising moon
Haiku # 657
Autumn crossroads…
my heart a bird,
my soul a cloud
Haiku # 635
Vêtue d’amour
la rosée de son souffle
choyant ses joues
~
Clothed by love
the dewdrops of his breath
caressing her cheeks
Haiku # 620
Through the window
of my longing
the first light of the year
Haiku # 605
If you really listen
you can hear it…
the silence of the sky
Haiku # 596
Moon at dawn…
today I choose
to surrender to your light
Haibun # 4
Roads are so fascinating because far off, in the distance, they always curve into some unknown, inviting and frightening, tantalizing our sense of adventure. They open us to the moment and fill us with wonder, swelling our hearts with endless possibilities.
Again and again
what I lost came back to me…
a traveler on the road
Haiku # 534
Returning from the fields
the light of the moon washing
the dust off my face
~
Sur une branche de lune
l’oiseau perché écoute
le silence de la terre
~
From the empty chairs
her silhouette watching
the dark rolling sea
Free Verse # 394 (a bag of poetry)
Wanderer
chasing flowers
fallen from her hair,
on the pathways of the world
traveling
carrying nothing
but a bag of poetry.
~
A woman who can grant me
the love I always longed for,
between us the silence
of the poem-sky.
~
Summer in a vineyard…
grape by grape
from her skin falling,
a wine burning velvet
in the cup of poetry.
~
Shriveled kisses
in the midst of winter…
figs clinging still
to the promise of the sky
~
Writing always follows
a sacred ritual,
her fragrance burning
along the edge of the pen.
~
Poetry is always a companionship, an intimacy between two beings.
~
Humans are doorways opening unto little ponds or great oceans, water bodies as small or as great as the deeps of our longing, the rootedness of our understanding and love.
Free Verse # 390 (my spring of poetry)
Love was between us
and she was a tailoress,
fitting my poems
to the curves of her skin,
the sinews of her breath.
~
With a breath,
with a word,
with a heartbeat,
with a ribbon of your fragrance
fill my heart to overflow,
grant me your light
as a gift of life.
~
Our poetry…
two birds
to one another
deep in the woods
calling.
~
Wetness dripping…
poetry dissolved
amid her thighs
~
The anchor of your breath
once fell into me,
now my skin is all rust
from the salt of your sea.
~
Stirring softly,
a breeze amid the trees
at dawn,
my breath in starseeds
dewing on your skin,
your dark hair
a mooncloud
in my spring of poetry.
Haiku # 431
No words to say
only heartbeats hushed
in the ear of the moon
~
Quieter each year
only speaking
with the light of the moon
~
Misfit heart…
a patchwork of poetry
inked in silence
~
Ending the day
her breath, a shawl
wrapped around my neck
~
In my teacup
steeping
the white leaves of the moon
Free Verse # 374 (alone in my fortress)
Alone in my fortress
of tea and poetry,
a trail disappearing
amid worded trees,
lost inside the pages
of books and memory.
~
She is there for a moment,
a verse of poetry,
a wandering firefly
vanishing in the moon.
She is there for a moment
but then she disappears,
the moon remains
and the heart wonders.
~
Bravely she carried her heart
like an altar burning with strange fires
where only the purest poetry
can be given for a sacrifice.
~
Silent long enough
the word will speak,
poetry will come.
~
Autumn’s red leaf…
his seed in her
a nimbus moon
~
Wandering old streets…
the footsteps of those long gone
falling like dew.
~
The sun has set,
through the waves of the night
I sift
searching for a curl
of your voice
to tuck against my heart,
a spark from your eyes
to light a candle
in the darkness of my soul.
~
I live off the solitude
of poetry,
a hermit
wandering the hillsides
collecting simple flowers
to plant in her hair.
~
Her navel, the birthplace of the moon.
~
This night
poses her hands
on my shoulders
like a forgotten lover
who wants the world to burn
with desire for her kiss,
so I burn and kiss her
with the lips of poetry.
Haiku # 356
Miniature fig tree
In the shadow of your leaves
Garden poetry.
Free Verse # 351 (the prophecy of her skin)
Mad with the prophecy
Of your skin
My hands prowl
The streets of the night,
My fingers coursing
Like burning rivers
Into your womb
Of poetry.
~
In each woman
A hidden core spins
Birthing the whole world.
To touch a woman is to live
In its velvet mystery.
~
O cloistered heart,
However high its walls
No garden is hidden
From bee and butterfly.
~
All the roads spread
From the root source
Of her heart.
Traveling I always
Roamed through her veins,
Swam in her blood.
~
We have not met
But at night
My dreams and hers
Collide
And rain in showers
Of breathless stars.
Haiku # 321
In stormy twilight
my heart wanders,
a bird with no home
Haiku # 127
Moon over the hills…
the fragrance of a whisper
older than the sky
Haiku # 220
Amid fallow hills
the river of dusk…
fading birdcalls
~
In a dark tree
a wounded bird
sings his last song
~
Why linger
when you can fade…
leaf in the sky
~
On my pillow
a flower’s lost fragrance…
thick cover of night
~
A moment’s solace…
the trees dancing
with the evening wind
~
In the glow of sunset
my heart alone travels
a ship without sails
Free Verse # 290 (her, all the flowers in one)
Where his fingers touch her skin stars kindle
breathing out like radiant flowers
a fragrance more pure
than the jasmine-breath at dawn
~
Winding through gray streets
My footsteps at dawn lead me
Always to your shore
~
Cleansed
by the fires of her love…
I am what remains
~
In her womb
his touch
a tide of stars
swelling wider
than the nightsky
~
I, a thirsty butterfly.
Her, all the flowers in one.
~
Her burning ache he balms
with a quiet touch,
with a penetrating gaze he unfurls
all the flowers of her memory,
all the seeds in her heart.
~
Your palms
held against my eyes,
a chalice of clouds
drinking all my tears,
pooling them in your heart
~
Yellow is for longing…
Behold then, my love,
An isle of this boundless sea
That for you lives in me…
~
Ripening
each poem aches
to be plucked by the wind
and carried to rest,
a tangle in her hair,
a kiss on her cheek,
a star in the firmament
of her waving skin.
~
Between us…
a shoreless ocean,
a universe of stars.
Between us…
poetry’s silent breath
at the edge of dawn.
~
Breezing
through her being
his breath
an autumnal wind
baring her
leaf after leaf
~
In the darkness
these fingers
trace your face,
its contours
the sky I worship,
its freckles the stars
leading me home.
~
All the stars…
one jewel in the crown
of my love for you
Free Verse # 282 (enwombing each other)
Walking under the stars
as the moonlight
carves into my bones
the fires of your name
~
Inside of you, inside of me,
we grow in each other
like a seed in the ground,
enwomb each other
like the enveloping sky.
~
Who told the tree
to send her roots deep
and grow into the sky?
Likewise, inside you
I sprout and unfold
driven by an instinct
older than time.
~
One coin from you
is worth
all the world’s treasure;
I take your silence
for the world’s music,
I take your presence
for its wildest pleasure.
~
There’s no rest
except in the moments
when my eyes, sinking in yours,
merge with the sky.
~
I open to her wonder
and words fail me,
a dry riverbed
tasting again
the beloved’s lips,
her beauty filling me
skin and bones,
melting me inside the river
flowing from her womb.
~
The forest of poetry
in a single seed lies dormant,
one teardrop from your soul
and it flourishes, blazing
all ancient secrets, painting
all hidden dreams.
Rooted in Love 