Friday, 18 December 2009

In our dream factory*

We are not made for this world
Its mundane routine and daily hardships
We are children of the stars
We feed on sunrays
Inhale the smell of raindrops
Exhale fantasy
We live in a dream factory
Where everything is possible
Where boundaries are skyline
We are conceived from illusion
And illusion we lust for? To remain
We inject ourselves with daily doses of philosophy
We come up with impractical theories
Test our capacities to draft our thoughts
Using threads of dreams
Painting with a brush of memories
A poem
Someone somewhere will read
And will realize that
We are not made for this world
Its mundane routine and daily hardships

Tuesday, 15 December 2009

In absentia_

Blocked mind
Flow of feelings
In the head
Too much coffee
Countering the effect
Of last night’s
Surplus of alcohol

And the blood
Is no longer red
It is of the color
Of the mix of substances
Inhaled and consumed
Exploited and abused

How much can the temple take
For the soul’s random
Trips
To the other side of
Reality
Reached through the gates
Of a substance
To give it its satisfaction?

Thursday, 10 December 2009

some sour vibes

I have a bitter taste in my mouth
Must be from swallowing all the acrimony
Of people around me
And not being able to digest it

It is hard to absorb the vibes of hostility
They get stuck somewhere
Between mouth and esophagus
Provoking a kind of nausea
Not even the heaviest of meals
Embraced with fat and stodgy lipids
Ever make me feel

If just I can vomit those emotions

Saturday, 5 December 2009

Burning desire_

It all starts with a stroke
An itching stroke
And the flame is on
It glows, at start
It is sparkling
Full of life
Few moments
Until it starts eating itself
It eats you
Feeds on its own flesh
And that spiritual fraction of it
It gives a pleasant sensation
You wish it could last
But it is burning
Is it what they call joy of pain?
You want to feed it
Don’t you?
You want to keep the fire going
The addiction to feeling
To the peak of emotions
To the spur of this strange substance
Being transformed
From matter to air
As it leaves the body
That desire
Oriented to the outside
Will soon be nothing
But ashes
You will look at for a long while
Contemplate the desire
Turned into substantial matter
You can actually touch it
What does it feel like?
Materializing emotions
For how long are you willing to feed the flame?

Thursday, 3 December 2009

A play of colors and time*

The piercing morning sun
Breaks the wall of ebony shades
Built by nocturnal reflections
Of the unquiet mind

The lips are smiling
The eyes are shining
The body is on go
But what about the soul?

Even the most piercing of all suns,
A rainbow,
With all its parachuted colors,
The greenest grass of the first day of spring
Cannot bring back the colors of an aging soul

The grey that reigns once
Reigns infinitely
Gray is irreversible
Just like gravity

Can you force life on that which is long dead?

Thursday, 26 November 2009

An ephemeral bliss

Today my mind is good for nothing
My thoughts keep drifting and flying
Each time I come to set them on something useful
They slip right through my fingers
I am not able to center my ideas
On anything valuable

Instead, I am daydreaming
Of the colorful horizon
At the end of my mind frame
The rainbow of opportunities and ventures
The trip on the back of a butterfly
To the land where the soul is free
From all conventions and morals
Where the mind is unperturbed
By daily distresses and unease
And the body is liberated
From the strains of fabric and make up

I reach out to touch this horizon
And with a gesture of my inept hand
I spill my coffee
On my feet and my daydreams
Awakening my wandering mind
Dragging it out of the house of fantasies
Back to mind-numbing reality

In everyday life, Fantasy is dead.

Wednesday, 25 November 2009

An unworldly imagination.

And for a moment
I felt I own the world

Silence and noise
Roving around me
Were in perfect unison
Light and darkness
Were synchronized
Illuminating my striving thoughts
Casting a shadow over my fears
In such a perfect harmony

It was a moment of realization
An instant during which
The world, the stars and the whole universe
Revolved around me
Around my flesh and my spirit

It was an instant

And it disappeared
By the rise of the first sun rays
When the first word was uttered
And the silence died out
To give space to my mortal earthlike being
To be
Repeatedly
Once more

Monday, 23 November 2009

i am not a concept.

I am not a concept.
Though my feet
Leave no trace
On the sand
I set them on.

Don’t try
Let loose of me,
For in your brain
I find solace
Worth the credence
Of the heaviest body

In your brain
I am more than a concept
I am a developed idea.
A whole.

Perceived by all of your senses,
I am emotions.
Filtered through your wits
Embraced by your intellect

I fear,
Once outside of your mind,
My scheme won’t be as solid
To leave a trace
In the time and space
Framing our existence.

Can an idea scratch the soul?

Thursday, 19 November 2009

Cold November*

She woke up this morning
Feeling a different kind of weight
The weight of things that were left unsaid

Last night had passed hastily
Lacking everything but tranquility
For his smiles, intentionally candid
Gave her fraudulent substance
That kept her company the whole night through

Who’s hiding behind the smiles, she wondered,
Is it the same soul she deliberately fell for
Back in the days, when time stood still?
Or is it a new soul, smitten by a new lust
That she once knew and now is obsessing about?

His words, impeccably chosen words, gave her comfort
That her mind couldn’t keep hold of
Words are words
They hardly climbed up the ladder of her soul
Only to reach her mind in form of incoherent fragments
The soothe of which disappeared as fast as it surfaced

Where is momentary madness?

Tuesday, 17 November 2009

i write to remember.

I polish my nails each a different color
Hoping that this would add some colors to my soul
I cut my hair, each day a bit shorter
Hoping that this would cut out the dark feelings inside
I wear hippie cloths and walk bare feet
Hoping that this would prove my existence

In a world that is turning colorless, feeling-less and cold

I reach out to you, hug you till it hurts
Hoping that this would show you I still feel
I grab you, grasp you till you suffocate
Hoping that afterwards I will be the one to make you breathe
And then, I will go back to polishing my nails,
Cutting my hair and trying on different cloths,
Everyday.

And then, I will write about it on my blog.
And then, I will read it emotively the day after
Trying to recollect the facts that triggered this flow of emotions.

I write to remember.

Monday, 16 November 2009

temporary peace*

Temporary peace
by Anathema

Deep inside the silence
staring out upon the sea
the waves are washing over
half forgotten memory

Deep within the moment
laughter floats upon the breeze
rising and falling dying down within me
and I swear I never knew, I never knew how it could be
and all this time all I had inside was what i
couldn't see
I swear I never knew, I never knew
how it couldn't be
all the waves are
washing over all that hurts inside of me

Beyond this beautiful horizon
lies a dream for you and i
this tranquil scene is
still unbroken by the
rumours in the sky
but there's a storm
closing in voices
crying on the wind
the serenade is growing
colder breaks my soul
that tries to sing
and there's so many many
thoughts
when I try to go to sleep
but with you I start to feel
a sort of temporary peace
there's a drift in and out



Is temporary peace killing our momentary madness?

Wednesday, 11 November 2009

I swallow colored pills for fun

I run naked under stormy skies
I feel the wet ground under my feet
Pulling me inwards, underground
I slide
Only my head is over grounds
I look upwards at the sky that turned red
It is coming down
Soon it will touch the land
And my head will be in between
The reality of the solid earth
And the illusions of moving red skies

I remain naked, surprisingly unimpressed
I feel the soil soaking my skin
Infiltrating the pores, making its way into my veins
Coloring my blood chocolate brown

The sky is moving closer, too close
I close my eyes and let go
I let the colored pills take lead

Brand new soul.

I pull
And I pull
And I pull
The string of my being
I hold on to it
And pull again
And I fall
On the unknown land
I drift
And I search
And I seek
A familiar face to grab
I roam
And I rove
And I end up
In the place where I first landed

No face is familiar
No words move me on
People of the unknown land
Are all distracted in shedding the thorns
That got stuck to their souls
As the years went by

I am new here
I have a brand new soul
How long will it remain intact?
How long until I am one of them?

Friday, 30 October 2009

October.

October is full of surprises
And packed with absurdities

With its green grass growing

Before the stormy winter
Like the peaceful tranquility
That precedes the flood

October comes in colors and shapes
Always succeeding in surprising
The mind that expects less
Let alone the mind that expects more

October is worse than the mood swings
Of my borderline personality
It deceives, thwarts then boosts up
The energy insides
Then just throws it down

Down
Deep down
Even deeper than its initial state

*photograph by E.A.C. in North Lebanon

Tuesday, 27 October 2009

Hippogriff of the lake

I dropped a heart beat
In the lake below
I watched the rings form
On the surface of the waters
I bent down to touch them
I fell in the lake
Two feet under water
I could see land creatures
That did not belong there
Roaming around freely
As if they were home
They had weird colors
And emitted weird echoes
I was searching between them
Opening my eyes wide
Focusing on the simple details
So that I find my lost heart beat
When I heard a huge laugh
Coming from a place nearby
The kind that makes you scared
I trembled
The lake’s hippogriff ate my heart beat

A trip at 12.45*

You are a thought in my mind
A vision in my phantasm
A ghost, among others
A word in my poems

You are an idea
A figment of my mind's eye
Lingering in my head
Tossing between my schemes
And my trepidations

You are a full stop
Ending each of my days
With an intense embrace
Wrapping up my daily qualms
Setting the stage for a night of fervor

You are a transition
From the worldly to the land of dreams
Transforming an ounce of flesh
Into a host of flaming desires
The kinds that trigger a heart beat

Thursday, 22 October 2009

Injurious Items*

We sat under rainy skies
Watched a cockroach dying
Everything about her inspires me
Her words of reason
As much as her nonsense

Her philosophical attempts
Centered on the movements
Of the dying cockroach
Trying to decipher its existence
Beyond the raindrops and time

Her ambitious endeavors
In trying to fit in a world
Where her uniqueness is not sought after
Where commercialism takes over
Shimmering minds like hers

As I sit unaccompanied today
And reflect back on the days
I got to be her shadow
Listening to her words of acumen
Living through both her harsh and blissful realities
Feeding on her aspirations
Longing for their happening
As if they were my own
I throw to her side a handful of craving
To get the best out of life -

Not a single creature
Deserves what I wish for her to earn.


Painting by Christel Daccache - the inspiration behind this piece and many other aspects of my existence*

disoriented piece*

I breathe your voice
I feed on your facial expressions
I make a living
Out of daydreaming about you
And writing my reveries
In my red notebook
I seek sunrays
Lighting up your features
Collect them, in small pieces
Hide them under my pillow
And at night,
When it is dark
I amass them in a mug
Water them with
My delirium
And slurp them
Like milk
And then, I am able to sleep
With a piece of you
Living inside of me
Until tomorrow’s sun is up

Thursday, 15 October 2009

The Incident Of The Man On The Clock.

There Is A Man
Hanging On The Arms
Of The Clock
On My White wall
Trying To Push Them
Backwards
While
The Hands of Time
Defying The Rules
Of Gravity
Are Dragging The Man
In A Circular Pattern
Left To Right
Leaving Him Breathless
Effortless And Aback
Carrying Out
An Arduous Chore
With The Only Aim
Of Restraining
Time
From Moving On
And Annihilating
The Dream
That I Have Been Dreaming
During A Sleep Of Mine
That Went Further Than
And Far Beyond
The Span Of An Animate Being’s Existence

Tuesday, 13 October 2009

your words*

I collect your words
Glue them to spaces in the sky
When it is dark.
Your words are free pieces of you
Hanging under my clouds
I color them shiny colors
I stare at them overnights
Guard them from early morning sun
Afraid that once the sun is up
It will make them dissolve
Into airborne molecules
Taking them back to non-existence
To nothingness, absent for the naked eye
Absurd, for the craving ear
The nothingness they strived to depart.

Saturday, 10 October 2009

To do.

Get your body out of bed
Throw your mind from the window
Take a long shower
Wash out all the gloom
Wash out the regret with it
Put on your best of gowns
And your most of appealing of masks
Some touch of make-up and gloss
Tear your cheeks with your fingers
To both extremes
Until the smile is there
Yes, this smile
Do you see it?
Reckon it
You will be seeing much of it
Keep it on
And go out to the world
You don’t have to speak
You don’t have to listen
Just smile
Pretend all is going just great
And keep it this way
Until the smile becomes just natural
And the oblivion you’re in
Becomes your only persona
And then you die.

Tuesday, 6 October 2009

i bleed red emotions.

A photograph hanging on some pub's wall in Amsterdam.

*Total fixation

Monday, 5 October 2009

Duality

Today is a good day to write
I feel

My trouble is though
That I cannot track my feelings
I cannot dig deep enough
To capture the strain
That is making me feel
What I am feeling
I cannot depict its color
You know my feelings are colored
My moods are too
That is how I recognize them
That is my cipher
But I am failing to distinguish
Failing to portray

What happened to the mind
That was once so synergized with the soul
That mind, that used to capture a flying emotion.
Is it dug too deep now,
Too deep in thoughts,
To be unable to familiarize itself
With its own temple’s sentiments?

Thursday, 24 September 2009

EmiLynn*

Last night
I packed myself
With cellophane paper
Used to pack luggage
I positioned a “FRAGILE” tag,
Not on my toe, no
For I am not dead yet -
I tagged it on the center
Of my chest
Right above the huddle
Of pumping red tissues
I dropped myself
On your door

Comes morning sun
You find me there
Stand over my body
Give me a look of aloofness
Hold me vigilantly
Take me into your house
Go up the stairs
Put me in the attic
And leave home to start your new day

All I wanted was a hug.

Thursday, 17 September 2009

In nowhere land*



The Grand Palace,
Bangkok, Thailand.

Wednesday, 16 September 2009

Egoistic trip*

She craves for attention
Every inch of her does
Even her menstrual blood

She thrives under the spotlight
Seeks admirers and voyeurs
Looks deep into their eyes
To find a spark of admiration
Validating her existence

She dances under the water
Plays air-guitar beneath her bed
Draws butterflies on the pillows
With her bodily discharges

She observes miseries
Dispassionately
Looks up to people who dream

She creates a world of illusions
Where everything she sees exists
And what she doesn’t see
Is not
Never was
And will not be

Existence is through her eyes only.

Sunday, 13 September 2009

time and place*


From David Spiller's exhibition "Trying to get to heaven before they close the door"

Tuesday, 8 September 2009

A fictitious reality - Farewell Waltz*

The music was loud
And I was immersed by the vibes
Around me were characters
From a novel I just finished reading
The musicians, looking elated
With every note played
Expressions on their faces
Look as if they were orgasming
And I think to myself
How divine, for a person to create
A note, a child
Just to be able
To create

Around me were characters
From a novel I just finished reading
Feeble minds
People whose past and future
Are nothing but one
Simply because they don’t
Prove their existence
In the realm of the mortals
You remember how they were
Ten years ago
And meet with them again
Twenty years later
And they are still the same

Around me were characters
From a novel I just finished reading
There is the dreamer
Who lives elsewhere
You think she is among us
Present
But her mind is on a different planet
Scrutinizing humanity
From high above
Mocking our generation
And the fast pace it took
To realizing its carnal goals
To achieving its useless ends
Not stopping for a moment
To absorb notes
Played by some musicians
Who dedicate their existence
To the creation of something
We all long to imitate

Monday, 7 September 2009

On the dark side of the coin

You’re on my mind
But you don’t mind

You’re in my sight
You can barely hide

You’re self absorbed
And much adored

You have me caught
Words hung in my throat

I can barely breathe
But you never cease

To keep me on toes
With all your vows

You’re a malediction
Inflicting affection

In my naïve soul
I can barely drawl

You fascinate me
Raise hell in me

Hang on near
You are my gear

In my land of dark
Through you I spark

Delirium made flesh_

A fool man lives in my head
He comes out in the hour of darkness
Making an imperceptible appearance
In my night’s first dream

The fool man restrains my brain
From dozing off
He gives way to sleeplessness
The whole night through

The fool man is evil
He wants to suffocate me
He presses my legs and shoulders
He lifts me up from my bed
Takes me on a trip while I scream unheard
Knowing that he is in my head
The fool man throws me on the ground
Each night
He throws me on the ground

I wake up dumbfounded
Each night
I know the fool man is transparent
I know he is in my head
But he is stronger than I am
He is taking my sleep away

Sunday, 6 September 2009

strange infatuation*

When moments perceived as eternity
Pass by in fractions of seconds
And the hours fly by
And you are still where you are
On that bed
In that homely room
Next to the same person
Talking about the vital and the trivial
Worrying about nothing outside the walls
Feeling nothing but the soothe and comfort
Of the moment

When this scene is repeated
In your mind, the day after
And your heart goes on beating
The same beats of excitement
And ecstasy
And you long for the coming opportunity
To relive a moment away
Outside the walls of this life
Outside its ups and downs
In the same room filled by the imaginary delight
And the ongoing rummaging of lost dreams
Turning them into bits of reality
Only real inside the barricades of your thoughts

Then, and only then
Hang on to that heart beat
For it is the small things
In the person next to you
That make you enjoy each minute spent
That are worth dreaming and longing for

Thursday, 3 September 2009

yesterdays*

There is a noise in my head
A scarcely audible noise
It comes from a place faraway
From the mouth of a little girl
Uttering hushed words
In the ear of a little boy
Sitting beside her
On a hill, up above the sea
She tells him a story
Of a dream she once had
To go to a place so faraway
Where she would meet a little boy
Sit beside him on a hill,
Up above the sea
How at sunset, her words would
Fade, drown with the sun
And be embraced
By the deity of the deep sea
Who will make them pigments
Coloring grains of sand
And drop them little by little
In the daydreams of the girl
When eternity had passed
And the memory of this place
Is barely recalled
She will be in her prime
She will hear a noise in her head
A scarcely audible noise
Of words uttered ages ago
By a little girl
Sitting next to a little boy
On a hill, right above the sea
In a place that is far away
But will she remember?

Monday, 31 August 2009

Slowness*

From my seat
I could see the clouds
Separate entities
Attached to nothing
Flying and floating
Between earth and endless skies
And I wonder
What it feels like
For a person
To be attached to nothing
A free soul
Lingering around
Between dreams and reality
Hopes and mischief
Would it be worth living,
Hanging on to nothing?
Would it be worth to dream,
When dreams are unreachable,
High above?
Would it be worth to live,
When life on earth,
Is the ultimate end
Of life itself?

Wednesday, 26 August 2009

Recollection of purple nights_ ode to memory*

Thai reflections*

After a sleepless night, I carried my red notebook and pencil around, all day today. Though ideas are invading my mind, words are failing to verbalize. I am not able to write. There is much going on inside… so many challenges, so many endeavors. The closest to balance I got is equivalent to the closeness of the sky to the sea; although you see them entwine, in the horizon, it is only an illusion; and so is my life’s balance – an illusion.

The past four months I have been living in my suitcase. I don’t want to grumble and say that I was not enjoying the action that was taking control over my everyday life – I loved it actually. But I think it is time to settle down again for a while; go back to the pleasant routine – with its trivial ups and downs, at least for a short while.

I have been dragging deadlines at work since forever. I’ve been procrastinating even in my personal life. So many friends I’ve been meaning to see, so many movies I’ve been meaning to catch, so many books I’ve been longing to read … I don’t know how time is flying by! When I think back about the past seven months, I feel as if I am watching a movie and have pressed the ‘fast forward’ button. Maybe I did achieve some triumphs, surely I have flunked many; but definitely I haven’t taken any time to absorb what is going on around me. Everything I am doing, I am doing in a rush.

Whatever happened to the afternoons I used to spend in my corner in the sun, just watching people passing by, or reading a book, or just sipping my coffee without thinking about the million things I have to be thinking about to get things moving? Whatever happened to my peace of mind, my stillness of emotions, my physical ease and carnal harmony?

I am tired … practically from everything and nothing.

I think it is about time to hit the ‘pause’, breathe, and then kick it off again. Yet this time, back to my normal pace of evolution.

Or has ‘fast forward’ become the only way ahead nowadays?

Tuesday, 25 August 2009

Alter reality

I am sprinting against time
Watching your face fading
In the arms of the clock
Hanging on my wall

I am defying the natural laws of gravity
Sliding upside
Up to your skies
To kiss sunrays lighting up your skin

The picture of you
Haunts my eyes
Your whispers in my ears
Cut out all the noises around me
And leave me alone
In my mind,
In my world of fantasy
In my world of you and i

In this world,
Time is not bound to the clock on my wall
Gravity slides upwards
And sunrays shine day and night

Saturday, 22 August 2009

Friday, 21 August 2009

Ode to Europe*

I am running on a rainbow
Wearing high-heeled sandals
My legs feel heavy
But my head feels light
So light, it passes right through clouds
Without the blink of an eye

I see arrows coming
From behind the skies
They reach my skin
Touch it, penetrate it
Pass through it
And I feel as if, swords of ice
Are passing through me

The arrows are colored
Each color prompts an emotion
And I feel disected
Experiencing all sensations that
Could be felt by a human body
All within a second’s time-span

I rest awake - brain-dead

Monday, 17 August 2009

Lucid ambiguity

With only one eye open
I can see half of the world
I choose to see the bright half
Amidst all the dark clouds
That have been reigning over my skies lately

With only one eye open
I will tint darkness with vivid dye
I will dip my gloomy feelings
In a jar of vibrant paint

And I will wait for the rainbow
To surface again
Swallow my soul
Into the core of ecstasy
And leave me dazed
For the perpetuity to come

Wednesday, 5 August 2009

Room 305

The clock no longer moves backwards
The clock no longer stops ticking at all
The clock no longer exists
And we question its previous existence

I no longer think backwards
I no longer stop my sensations’ flow
I no longer exist
Except in the realm of your reality

You no longer dream backwards
You no longer stop denying your brain’s fixation
You no longer exist
Outside the span of both my arms

Monday, 3 August 2009

wordless feeling*

The page lies white before me
For hours and hours
Ideas roam around my mind
But I never succeed
In pulling them into it
Words seem to be a foreign substance,
Sentences complicated entities
Never able to stand alone
Without me dashing them out
In a voluntary act of impulse
Striking every letter
With a different color
Because my mind functions better
When ideas are less than abstract
And words come in colors
Yet even these acts are not helping
For I need all the colors in the world
And even much more
To formulate one sentence
That lays down the fact
That I fail to express
How much I miss you

Thursday, 30 July 2009

Flawed acts of nature

My feelings lay before me, on a silver plate
I see you taking your chop sticks
Intending to roll them up and digest
But your hands are stuck
Taken aback, forcefully
By a chain made of the fragments of your wits


My soul is poured in a glass
Standing brightly and proudly on your dinner table
Glowing, with the little sparkles in it
Begging to be drank

But your mouth is knit

With filaments of your own flesh


I sit in my bed and
I mourn moments like these

Sometimes I wish
I could vomit all my emotions
In one big jar
And throw it in the deep sea

A start of something beautiful*

I lay my head next to his
We share a moment of silence
We listen to the soundless noise
Of our breaths
Playing symphonies
Along with that river below

We stare at the ceiling
For hours, until dawn
Comes creeping out
From behind the mountains
Reminding us about a concept
Of time, we forgot about
The whole night through

Sweet morning comes
After a sleepless night
Tripping on the scent
Of his skin
Drawing his picture
In void space
With the top of the unfinished
Bottle of wine
Sweet morning comes
Sunrays rest on his lips
And I feed on this sun

We hold hands
Dive into a void ocean
Balancing between its extremes
Sliding from edge to edge
From fears to haven
Between nightmares and dreams
And I wonder
If the stillness inside
Could last more in reality
Than it does in our daydreams

Tuesday, 28 July 2009

Pleasing unease*

When your dreams and your nightmares share the same bed
Tell me, how can you live undead?

When your obsession exceeds the realm of your existence
To land on a cloud six feet under your hopes
Tell me, how can you still on your passions depend?

When you are torn between two satisfying extremes
Tell me, which yearning are you longing to most feed?

When your lightness becomes heavier than your weight
And the gratification from both turns out to be just great
Tell me, which will you chose heaviness or its slight lack of it?

When you close the door on your fears
And decide to embark on a journey full with risks and unease
Tell me, would you let go of your dice one last time, please?

Of Purple Thoughts.

Dare
To stare
Into my soul

Glare
Then share
What’s in your thoughts

Refuse
To diffuse
The weakness inside

Exposed
Controlled
Do you feel left behind?

Your flare
Your stare
Show how lost you are

My glow
You blow
When you tread too far

Come close
I will dose
On the stillness of your war

I need
You to feed
On the musing of my scar

Tuesday, 21 July 2009

Everything and Nothing.

Her groin
Host of infinite little creatures
Her wits
Artifact of an eternal life
Her scent
The color of blood and snow
Her taste
Of strawberries and striped clouds
Her moans
That even a crowd could not silence
Her gaze
Porthole to a reverie world
Her scars
Counterfeit, vacant and odd

She is everything and nothing.

I can't remember when this was originally written - but definitely sometimes between March and April 2009.

you*

Shall I be dead now,
You should know
You were the last thing
On my mind
No, I did not see flashbacks of my life
No, I did not see absolute white void
No, I did not hear the car crash
Or think about my own death
It was you I thought about
How you told me a week before
That you could have died
In a car accident
How ‘the sky was moving sideways’
How you thought that that was your last moment
Your last fraction of existence
Your car going round
To impede under a truck
No, it wasn’t the wall I crashed into
Nor the highway my car flew over
Nor the seaside route I landed on
That I thought about
When my own death approached me
It wasn’t ‘the fear of a blank planet’; No
It was you
A probable reason why
Life chose to hold on to me
Maybe a reason why
Death hesitated in taking me
Was it you there?

Thursday, 9 July 2009

a blue confession.

I have a confession to make.

I did get your attention with my first sentence, didn’t I?


It is interesting how we humans can turn the silliest statement into the most valuable just by labeling it a “confession”.


Anyhow, this is not what I am intending to write about. What I will write about is something silly and not so interesting for most people. But you know when you have this urge to say what is going on inside that sick mind? You know when you HAVE to let things out before they explode inside and reach the outside undisguised – pure sick human emotions thrown down on your created pink world idealized and protected by the people around you?


Ok I am off limits again. I should write about my confession instead of blabbering around analyzing the natural and the concrete.

So, my first thoughts about this confession occurred last night; while I was having a drink with some friends.

It occurred to me then, that I am an extremely fastidious person. The threshold of my sense of satisfaction is too high; I cannot even see it anymore. Now this could be treated both positively and negatively. It could mean that I will not settle for less than my ideals, but it also means that I might end up shoving my ideals up my ass when I am eighty-four, in my corner, alone and still philosophizing and being my arrogant self around people I supposedly care about.


Maybe I will change, mature. Maybe my brain cells will mutate and start to accommodate the feeble minds. Maybe it is only my perception, that this phase I am going through determines who I am. But in reality it doesn’t. It is just a phase – like any other phase. Maybe it is my extended adolescence. Or is it all in my head?



Monday, 6 July 2009

A soul with an attitude_

I am thinking soul’ stripping
And maybe shark back diving

Into some deep African ocean

Would souls actually bleed?

I tell you, I don’t want to be tainted bloody red

After discharging my fantasy


I tend to be irritating

When my cravings wind up disregarded

But I have a propensity for being infuriating

If the repercussion of my urges

Cease excruciating


So please my yearnings

Strip my soul

Throw me into the ocean

Then clean my soul’s wounds


I am done being bloody red



Byblos*

He took her in his arms, under starless skies, after a walk by the seaboard of the old city; and its tight modest streets. It was a moment of lure, which she wished could last for more than few hours; which she wished she could absorb for longer than everlastingness. But time – defector of years-bound-powerless humans – was never on her side; why would it this time be?

They talked about a million things that night; of the mundane and the supernatural, of their dreams, passions and fears... And for a while she sensed the line drawn earlier beginning to wane - that desire is taking over the rules of the ordinary and the pre-assumed. It was only natural to have these thoughts in her head. It was only natural for her yearning to be colored, with the colors of the sea, skies and night reverberations. But the colors were misleading. They were placing her in a sense of steadiness that was only made of imperceptible nonexistent threads linking his captivating words to the enigmatic scenery around her.

Could it be that her imagination is taking over again? Could it be that her infatuation with the magic of the night is affecting her senses – again – drawing what she would like to see happening while at the same time wiping away what reality is giving her? Could it be that momentary madness has extended and exceeded the limits of the moment; to take shape in eternity while reigning over a single night?

His words blocked her contact with reality and shifted her senses to the realm of illusion that he has created, facilitated by the moonlight, the scents of the night and the ambiance of the old city. As they sat by the street watching late night passers-by, she found herself stuck contemplating the darkness up above, and that deep within. Should she surrender to her daydreaming mind one more time, willingly leaving space and prospect for it to lead her to another calamity? Should she draw back the line that started to fade earlier that night and draw with it the breaks without which she will constantly be living her double life? What is more heart aching; not living up to her dreams, or lacking any dreams at all?

Saturday, 4 July 2009

... On a sticky note*

I am not rational, I am emotions
Most of the times my words do not make any sense at all
My consciousness of what you call reality is drastically underdeveloped
My senses are mutated, from over-usage
My whole understanding of existence revolves around myself
It is not enough being originally distorted, and figuring out ways to cope with it
Why waste energy normalizing myself - just to look like everyone else around me?

Thursday, 2 July 2009

mutation stop*

I am naked
And pieces of my body
Are shattered on the floor
Right before my eyes

I am not a cadaver
But my organs are not one

We are on different clouds
It is true
But you are collected and I am not

I am not eternity
Yet I shall be remembered
Not by the many, but by the few
Who were prompted by my scent
And elicited by my fixation

Few moments until I become weightless
But I will still exist
On your cloud? Maybe
Yet definitely, in your thoughts, memories and aspirations

Grant me one last wish
Conceal my echoing moans
Silence me
It is enough crashing the carnal into pieces
Let the screams of the trodden soul be subdued

Sunday, 28 June 2009

Anesthetized

I feel a numbness that I cannot explain
It is ruling over my brain and my body
It could be the countless drugs I have taken
It could be the words you haven’t said to me

I feel the world around me moving in circles
At times fast, at times slow
At times it just stops and becomes noiseless

I try to sleep but I end up hallucinating
I see old people I have never met in my life
I see roads leading to places I have never been before
I see you amongst other ghosts, talking, but not to me
Avoiding looking into my eyes

I leave my bed and decide to be around people
They talk to me but I fail to reply
Inside, I scream, I try to utter few words
But they fail to leave my system
And I end up unheard – with moving lips but no sound

I go back to my room, put on my evening gown
I wear my gothic make-up, polish my nails blue
Close the curtains and shut off the lights
Sit on the floor and daydream about living undead

Thursday, 25 June 2009

*Kitsch

I have scratches on my back
Red, long scratches of lust
Reminding me of acid nights
Of ecstasy veiled under the curse of a never ending game

I have a scent in my nostrils
A scent of sex, sweat and submission
Refusing to diffuse
Or to make way, to the air I am not able to breathe

I have a soul under my skin
But the soul is not my own, I stole it
And it is not disguised in red, restraining
Getting hold of a body that is not its temple

I was once light, unexposed
Unattached to the carnal scratches, diluted scents
Or lost souls finding refuge in my being

Now I long for the weight
Induced by all my senses
Being driven by a single source
A magnet of an addictive taste
An engraved touch
A vibrating voice that reaches as deep as the heart of my soul
And a smell of an infinitely blissful eternity

Inspired by The unbearable lightness of being – Kundera
Beirut Airport – June 21

Wednesday, 17 June 2009

I do not remember my dreams

I slept this afternoon
And woke up thinking
That I have had the same dream
I dreamt last week
The same exact dream
With all its juicy details
I closed my eyes again

As I am sitting on my desk now
Trying to get my mind to focus
On the million tasks I have to do
It came to my mind again
That I had dreamt a dream
During my sleep this afternoon
And that the dream was recurrent

But I do not remember the plot
I do not recall the colors or smells
I only recollect my reaction
And my reaction was bound
To my unconscious recollection
Of threads of thoughts
Irking my mind
As vivid in my sleep as in my wakefulness

Tuesday, 16 June 2009

un-die.

But I am more than dead
Can a death be magnified?
I died many times
Does this count?

The day you tinted my mood black
That day, you started throwing stones in the pool of my emotions
They do hurt, you know?
Your soft, shiny stones

I thought we were playing a game
Where you would hide and give me signals
With your soft, shiny stones
So that I find you and embrace you till eternity

I didn’t know your stones were in concealing outfit
I didn’t know they had thorns and harmed my internal organs
I will quit playing with death
Discolor my mood again

Monday, 15 June 2009

Momentary lapse of reason.

Last night I tread on your corpse
Slowly, I forced each step into your flesh
Startlingly, it didn’t hurt you the least
Your spirit stood there watching me
Blabbering utterances I failed to understand

I tried squealing
But my screams did not reach out to your ears
Your brain failed to process my speech
My whole presence was intimidated by you
Even when you were dead weak

I held you in my arms and quavered you
I put your deadened body on ice cubes
And inserted needles in all your extremities
Not a single drop of blood came out
Not a single tear was shed

When did you seize to exist?