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

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.

Free Verse # 434 (she is all the lights)

In your touch
I make transactions
with beauty,
selling each moment
for a veil of your light,
feeling the white
of your perception
shine from my soul.

~

My poetry,
its endless brushstrokes
paint the features
of my face;
look at it,
it has no eyes
but only a silence
with which to gaze
upon the world.

~

When I write
I imagine my fingers
touching her face
the way the moth hovers
around the candle-light,
I feel my hands
dipped in her skin
like oars rowing
in a starlit sea of poetry.

~

Looking at her
the poem tries
with burnings fingers
to describe her beauty,
but then it falls down,
speechless.

~

She is all the lights the city needs.

~

My heart
I feel it connected to yours
by a hidden string,
like night to the day,
like the sky to the earth
and to the rolling sea of stars.

Free Verse # 396 (a life of wandering)

Dawn; the silence a sea
of radiant heat,
a universe permeated
by the want of our touch.

~

Night,
the wind trembles
and in the scatter of leaves
I hear your voice,
an ancient yearning
reaching into me,
opening my soul up
to the clear obscure dance
of desire and poetry.

~

The bird on the branch
sings the end of winter
as a flower slowly
takes shape in my heart.

~

A life of wandering,
taking in the world
in still images distilled
with the lens of poetry.

~

In the shadows of the night
your breath comes to me,
page after page of a poem
burning in my chest,
its words, set free,
buzzing in my veins.

~

In the bonfire of longing
my poems to you burn,
freed from the paper
their words rise,
the wings of a deep intimacy
taking flight
and like a song of praise
covering the world.

Free Verse # 390 (my spring of poetry)

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Photographer Unknown

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

~

tyr-january-06-2017
Tyr, South Lebanon, January 06, 2017

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.