Life

I passed through life

As nail thorough rock, in two versions

Long and short

The short version lasted sixty years

The long version was

a glance at the world

a smoke between two love makings

a jump over a hurdle along a song

in mist of memory in a distant time

Through you

Through you

 I touched the morning breeze

The life

The fear of loss

The joy of birth

I rooted in life as grass

In search of water

I found you

In a cup of tea

After an exhausting day

In a Hello or nod

From a stranger

In an empty road

In the help from another customer

In a grocery store

When could not reach

The top shelf for a can of tomato sauce

 

 

 

Migrants

They came one by one

Multitude of droplets

To become a sea

Scattered voices, in-homogeneous

Converged to be a block

And the country knelt

As the sea was a part of

The land, within, family

Each droplet was an unwanted

 Undesirable, alien

The sea was a gift of

Heaven for some

That was the irony,

A new paradigm

Sum of undesirables is desirable

Collection of unwanted is wanted

At the Edge of 60th Birth

On the sixtieth of my birth

Gentle rain of February

Washed away the echo of youth

O’ innocence, you got lost in dust, in time

Now, buried under layers of years

It is too late for new vision, new dreams

O’ innocence,  you vanished in dust, in time

Mortality is on horizon

Tells me unstable knees, foggy mind, blurry vision

O’ innocence, you got lost

When I thought I discovered myself

O’ innocence, take me to far horizon

To smoky mountains of my youth

To dream land of my childhood

To the land of forgotten memories

Palestine

We have fought for many decades
You show me the barrel of your gun
I throw at you, rock
You have killed me many times
I have murdered you few times
We have hated each other
under the burning sun of this arid land
You offered me peace
Not enough to live with
With your iron feast
Hidden in velvet gloves
I offered you peace
Wrapped in olive leaves
Hidden in it a dagger
One day, new generation
Will arise, hateful of you and me
to partition this cursed sacred land
and let all live in peace

Street

I live on a street, shape of half heart

Connected to two arteries

It is a pregnant street with children

Of no father, no mother and no future

Houses are lined up on both sides

To cover the faces of neighbors

Who never talk to each other

And buried in their own solitude

It is a quiet street with low traffic,

No noise, no excitement, and no personality

In night, low light makes it mysterious

And if you are gloomy, mystic

Occasionally a dog catcher drives through

Empty handed, and disappointed

When it rains, it is asymmetric

As the rain drops have the minds of their own

Nature is subject to compromise

November of 2012

Moon, ashamed of its dark side

Took refuge in the pond

A cloud became the cover

For nudity of the sky

Wandering Earth hung to

Branches of a willow tree

And a barren riverbed mourned the sea


A blogger of no political support

In land of boots and death

Died of torture, in solitary cell


And such was the November of 2012