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

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

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

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

light pattern of erotic delights*

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.

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.

i bleed red emotions.

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

*Total fixation

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?