Alone with others

 

Peel off feelings

Remember what I do not want

Cracking stairs and shifting steps

In the silent night…

To the cradle of my youth

... O, Venus Mount of mine...

Touched, washed, hurt, marked,

Spied, searched, sealed,

cursed.

 

Chili pili, onion peel

Now I do want them, On my mind...

Not

On my flying lips and lively clit!

O rise

Sunset lips ...Himalayas’ ecstasy of mine...

Loved, caressed, hugged, kissed,

freely, gently, tenderly, passionately.

 

The ring of time

Your memory blinds

mine sharpens

The tide of love

Your heart softens

Mine bleeds

The question of mind

Your silence

I demand.

 

April 5, 1995

 

 

 

Santa Féerie

 

Santa féeri, I do not know how

 but I knew you were coming…

There sitting on the verge of a cliff,

under the blazing sky,

I called on the constellation

to spell your name

asking one star after the other

to draw me the lines of your face,

the sealing touch of your hands,

the glazing warmth of your heart

beating against mine…

pulsing crimson fireworks high

in the infinite midnight sky.

In the distance and fare above,

 a red lightning struck my impatience

with ardency, etching in the black void

the shimmering look of your piercing eyes,

 looking at me. Leaning in the night,

against the adobe wall made of straw,

sands and tears of clay,

I cast your absent eyes….

I, opening in their glow every pore of my soul,

unfolding my wings of desire in moonlight winds,

whispers or prayers awaiting to be heard.

A wish upon the night of a shoulder embracing the sky and I…

 

 

 

Striving Breath

 

Striving Breath

From the Evanescent the Here-after,

A Lasting Conscience Breath Puffing Whispers,

Is Leaping Out a Delicate Clementine,

Your Face So Sweet.

 

When the Sacra

 Of Spring unraveled pollen and pistils

Of an adolescent margin

Dreams tasted of plum tangerine

Your embracing arms

 

Before interesting fingers

Treaded you a destiny to bear

 with your raven shimmering locks

Mandarin moons glittered from,

Your Ambrosian eyes

 

A Graceful weeding

 Tango kept frail and untouched

Until the scrolling years in a tornado

 Blended the Nectarine of your existence

 O Mother Pearl of Mine

 

From heaven, incanting falls

Bayoneting your sherry mouth

Biting with your teeth

Sealing in the djinn’s of your blooming orchid

The essence of your being

 

aimé/es, mes amour/es, amants, amie/s

Of a rhapsodic unforgetfulness

On beaming fragility.

OF Cleaving laughter’s...

On forsaking kisses.

Of a part, in the wrong place

On Falling thoughts

Of talking ears

On deafen eyes

 

Of Sparkling tears

On droughty smiles

Of soothing anger

On muted mouths.

Of leftover lust

On wrecked thighs

Of wheeling ring

On fleeting fingers

 

Yes...just standing...

You are on the verge

Of a breakthrough,

Irony or sadness

Far and smiling

Taking leave, my love...

I am...still!

 

When by a Venusian dawn

Dripping me between puddles

 Of Crimson love and troubling waters

 Sucking out the zest of your tangerine

Sun like stretching marks

 

A pure sweet fragrance

Delivering the love and the voice

For you who breathed in me

Your dream of being a rising

Crimson orange

Sharp to the tongue

 

But your forsaken leap

In my genes pitted a thirst

For the melting skies

A nectaring life elsewhere 

Horizon a juicier taste

 

Now as the summer comes

I feel your scent of womanhood

Talking crystal and moving sand dunes

Of all the men-made-laws without a ring of sense

Gorgeous and more

Wiser than all of men you are 

While I bide your loving face

I remain by the North wind

Seduced with its wild poems and men

Of tall-tales and enigmas

Two and Half

An Arab woman like You, I wish I could be...

 May 8 1995

 

In Memoram of  Samir Odeh

 

Friend,

Silent as a wish

there and always near

You were...

 

When upon a flying night

my hollering woes quested

a gesture of simple and kind compassion,

Strong like a pulse I reached out to you.

Hear me out my  friend...

I need you!

 

Gentle like a feather,

your hand winged away the dripping sorrow

Drenching my timberland cracking at its core.

You said  nothing . . . 

Subtle as your semblance

Your silence was eloquence

 

Your arms  of pure affection

I don't know just how your amity nearby 

soothing as a sabra,

 Tuned down my tumbling tree.

My leaves by time withered

 in the thunder winding byes

 

Faint was then my faith,

 in search of any reason

My somber heart shipwrecked

 Keep asking  . . . Why?

 

And I am lost and lass 

of  wandering fear

 not finding solace

Your candled heart

 listened  to my sleep

As I rested  my loaded soul

 In your eyes so steep. 

 

Your shoulder

 like a silk quilted moon

yields its humble crescent

there

 

 for my visage to lay

its distress in the warmth

 Of your sweetness.

Your flowing voice

and your candid eyes

 mumbled  . . .

 

Hush . . .  Little woman. .

 Don’t my friend . . . don't you cry.

Something inside me, my friend,

 Is withering my roots...

 enthralling the dimness of the light,

 Can you see the deep heave of its might?

 

Arching down my rumbling shadows

to the softness of the moment

 light as feather

you landed your fingers 

to the grasp of my hand,

Free to rest its sorrow.

 

A streaming peace

awakening in the morrow

 tender as a shiver,

Longing for a sleeping river by a willow.

 

Tender as a murmur

My irises deep close,

the silence and the wish

I let the hour of parting clove

 of you tender and sweet

And always near...divine

Dear scent of Oud and soapy dove

Z in Palestine, you shall rest

In peace under the grapevine

 

 

 

M.

In the nest of my errancy

Far away from you at last

I keep saying thanks to you

For having in the wink of a night

Brought shimmering lights

In my land of darkness

For in the blink of yours eyes

Made it safe for my solitude

To rest its sadness

For in the fleeting touch of your hands

Patting slightly mine,

Trembling of too much fear of grasping the sweetness, and, the moment

For there and much later, holding the slippery handle of a door, of a car, of a moving close to you, away from me

Loaded with silence light as breathlessness,

And drowsy with warmth, melting icy windows

 

Closed eyes resisting the brightness

Of traffic arrows leading hearts beating the asphalt

To a rest, yielding passage to unexpected Motions-emotions

Warning red signals of paths forbidden

For having all-ready been past

And then at the end fooling

All signals, yours soft eyes landing on my lips

A feathery kiss and my lips in your scented neck

A whisper…of sweet night and soft dreams…

Breathing of silence and much much more…

 

January1998

 

 

Prelude to a monologue

 

 

Write! Write it down, you will see...

 

•Easy to write it down but why? What could I see that I cannot now? What is it that I should write that I could not utter? 

•          

•You cannot . . . You may not...Tell the truth. Isn’t that so?  

•          

•Not now maybe... If not yet, not ever, it will be unbearable not to see...to be blinded...

•It will destroy you! You know too well what writing can do to you. 

Yes, indeed I think you are so right. If you do you, please let me be. Now I shall proceed and maybe see lighter, brighter, and deeper into the infinite meanders of...  Thirty thousand miles apart by walls of waters, steel, rocks, chewed words and shredded dreams with a binding, bounding, bouncing, boiling, burning, and by the years back and forth beaming quest of love and ecstasy