An Almond Song

An Almond Song

Hello! How has life been of late?
Autumn was depressing you said,
Perhaps summer would bring delight,
Peace and prosperity onto
Your enviably promising life!

 
Bedouin blood rushes through your arteries,
Incessant pulses of a Berber’s heart
Revitalizing its red carriers with
The fuel needed to burn your next batch of thoughts.
How humble and yet bold you are in being free,
Defying the received norms of ignorance,
Apathy and absurd intolerance,
Yet open enough to sound rationale!

 
Take a bow my dear Muse from the core of my heart
On this special day out of gratitude and love.

 
Knights have long ceased to tread the ageing earth,
Haunted sweetly by the visions of a queen
On a castle tower, forlorn, I know but
Lo and behold, in your mind if you can,
Once again though unarmored a knight walks
On the forest trek he paved in his dreams
Destined to pledge these words as a humble offering!

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The Sky Is Sad Tonight

The Sky Is Sad Tonight
Dedicated to Mulhima.

 

The sky is sad tonight,
his tears becoming solid hails
in the chill of a depression.
He groaned too in a blinding rage
every now and then
and each time the night grew
transparent, white, silver and blue,
baring the emptiness around.
   

I have always wanted to be as vast as the sky
and here I am, sad and bare as he is tonight!
   

Measured in meters I stand half way
between the universe and quantum particles
as lonely as the first and incomprehensible
as the latter, unpredictable at best.
    

After the fierce hailstorm, wind blows in sobbing gusts.
After the dripping of your words have ceased to flow,
I cannot remember why is it that we must
live like Adam and Eve with two unpardoned souls!

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A String of Escapades

A String of Escapades

So my love, do I walk away all defeated and resigned?
I could blame it all on my fate
but knowing I too ought to have a hand
in making life a string of escapades,
think I better keep these thoughts to myself!
   

I missed talking to you about my indecisiveness,
though I know, now is not the time or place
for such petty feelings, it is your time to grow
and be the Summer of abundance for the world;
the final days of Fall is on the previous page!
   

Is it I whose power lets my fingers fly on the board?
Is it I who makes my neurons construe
sensory stimuli the way they do?
I wish all these were dreams I’m having in my grave!

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One Day I’ll Write A Poem

One Day I’ll Write A Poem

One day I’ll write a poem for sure,
a real poem that will take its readers down the rabbit hole,
to the place with no illusion
as the definition of sanity, set and observed
by an overwhelming majority,
no one knows whether wittingly or not!
    

One day I’ll write a poem for sure,
one whose melody will resonate with the vibration
made by the beating of its readers’ hearts
and in tune too with the frequency of their thoughts!
    

All I have and will have written until that piece,
are my humble tries to compose it,
though failing over and over again.
I hope you are keeping your fingers crossed!

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A Parallax of Thoughts

A Parallax of Thoughts

O Butterfly, flap not your wings in Africa!
Each time you do a violent storm rips me apart,
though my love is not like the madness of oil’s price,
moved up and down by the pride of Caligula
and nor am I the Emperor, O silent Sky!
    

I was not born a thousand years ago, neither
would I live to see a thousand Springs come and go.
I wonder, had Nero known he would soon be dead,
would he still be playing on! Perhaps now we shall know
from the man with a caterpillar on his head!
   

But the Sky remains mostly as silent as God
and everywhere the mob drowns all innocence.
Despite the loud thunders, raindrops fall on the sea.
I smell the desert wind then a storm rips through me!

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