Showing posts from May, 2016

Be Gone

You devour me with every look—
eyes blazing in a desert
glimpsing a fleeting mirage;
no matter how my lips move
you see them revolving, no matter where I sit my bottom’s the sun— you seek no other light; my legs are a crime so obvious to move left or right or hold them tight to hide, slithering like a snake I feel your eyes everywhere; the cleavage big or small cannot help cleaving your brains— the man who has respect is gone the primitive man is all that remains; my hair floating in your imagination as if I were flying onto your lap, and stopping to take a sip of your nectar as if Jove’s blessings were spilled in a cup and I were blessed to hold on to each drop a tribesman in a suit and tie as if all words in your dictionary meant sex and all roads led to your bed.

Be gone I have not endured all that time
to end up in a slaver’s arms like yours;
hold on to your virile honor—
only in the mirror, you see it as great,
Be gone with your pornographic dreams
you thought at the scene, I would drop …

An Arms Dealer

They never needed me
when they killed for fruit,
flesh and sex and sustenance—
proud were the days of man
when he hunted his own meal made love to his wife without the aid crafted his own weapons, yet that wasn’t so profitable for some to kill the world one by one was too slow to start a business, so man crafted the art of war— death now has different flavors like ice cream in coldness delivered, blood’s coming through a sifter— you think one, in particular, is chosen, don’t fool yourself no more my friend I live off your pain and misery; your death along with all your family’s is for me but a commercial opportunity to buy to sell, to save and kill a taste of heaven or hell in this sense, I am your god I am an arms dealer.

The Elections in Lebanon

The same charade goes on and on
every time there are elections in Lebanon;
they want my vote—
I say, as a responsible citizen,
I should note
that I have no other choice
in your so filthy democracy
but to vote, that’s got to make a difference but you have already bought me within a package along with all the votes of my family that I never sold yet didn’t say no, I was not everybody, so I sold it anyway— my own right to liberty.

The elections in Lebanon,
there is no room in the pen for a beast,
no a free pass anyway,
you pay your dues with my consent
to eat me the very next day;
I build a chair for you to sit
and fasten its legs
through my neck to the ground—
a solemn choice of god
sold for bread and tears,
behind closed doors
away from the world
lest anyone should near—
the stench’s already filling up the sky.
The elections in Lebanon,
how much does it cost
to buy a country?
for the next term
like the term before,
we bring down one dictator
and build another;
we desecrate one temple,
throw stones at gods of old…


Let’s take a day or two,
a truce—
if you stop killing me,
I promise I won’t kill you;
a truce we call today,
but you may still think
not enough blood is spilled
not enough bullets are sold
perhaps, the baby’s premature
it may not pull it through.

Let’s take a day or two,
a truce—
I want to finish a whole meal
then take the time to nap
without a worry about snipers,
sapper’s traps, and fool’s trifles
thinking glory passes through my skull—
a destiny for me so bleak and dull
I am destined to be a martyr they say.
Let’s take a day or two,
a truce—
I want to take my kids to school,
the one we bombed yesterday
the one you made a bunker for the day before;
let me teach them what makes a nation—
before a great warrior, I was a teacher—
let me grease their brains
and lubricate their thoughts,
tomorrow they’ll need these skills, anyway,
for their rifles and guns.
Let’s take a day or two,
a truce—
I want to make love to my wife
to remember that once I had a life—
all our sexual adventures are death,
the thousand women we rap…


Longing for a day to be reborn
in a world so free of woe
tracking the rays of a sun,
not dying like our own
but eternally shining in our hearts
enjoying spending each minute
not wasting the last dimes of a loan.

Not being who I am supposed to be—
where is the thrill in living
if I am no longer a mystery?
If all my steps are already drawn
and I do not get to discover
day by day who is that
I’ve been living with all along,
and I do not have the will to foresee—
not like a god but a human
I live every day to be only me.
No more to serve a country
no more to protect some vague dignity
no more to kill the world to be free
no more mottoes and maxims
no more parties that cannot include
in their spacious definitions you and me,
no more gods to be interpreted—
I write my own bible and see
for once a true god that has been living
all the way inside of me.
No more feeling guilty, and I know
it’s never been my fault
that I don’t look like you—
we both belong to a different hue
in a rainbow so meant to be enjoyed
not joined …

The Day of the Massacre

Walking like the wind
I knew he could never
be mine; I’d hold him tight
to my chest like a peanut shell—
the world had to break
to take it out, and I
to remain on an empty plate
with all my kernel-less fruits
thrown back at me.
I’d picture him so handsome in a suit
walking down the aisle, and my eyes full
cascading all the memories;
in this two-minute walk,
I could summarize his life,
and this wife taking him
away from me, I’d hope
she could also see
what I’ve always seen in him
a prince shining like a dream.
One year or two would pass,
I would anxiously wait out my grief—
like a blade of grass
with no hand to weed out,
I’d have no chance to grow
but older in life
and younger in jealousy—
each pound of flesh in him
belongs to me;
I would not let her devour
my baby boy, but I‘d wait
to see the gracious fate
bringing back to me a piece
from him and more
they grow and grow
like a tree so tall would flourish—
I couldn’t wait long enough though
to see it bear fruit,
I’d be too old and deaf and mute
but happy to the core
of m…

Casual Kiss

His lips are falling like heavy rain on mine—
I have always loved the sun to shine—
mercilessly brutalizing my senses
like a heartbeat, one moment to grasp
but another to let go— like a giant adult seesaw going high, going low, talking to me once to see him on earth then I gather my strength and look up the sky all above, dreams fleeing like birds; he appears also there blocking the sun— I can’t hold on, I’ve lost my strength, he quickly pulls me back up, looking down.

A casual kiss defined my own existence—
I love casually just like I dress,
and fashions keep changing every day like hearts;
I eat casually, not the things I love,
I look at a casual woman in the mirror
not the one I am; something beyond my skin
tells me to go, but I say no,
be cool, be casual, be what they love—
the love of man to pluck is stronger
than a rose’s belonging to earth.
His hands so softly touch
but I picture your hands;
his arms are all around me
but I picture your arms;
your nose on his face
and your own lips
can kiss me n…

Heaven or Hell

how wrong could I be?
love’s twisting me like fate—
doors are open, I see your eyes
shining beyond the horizon
the sun I have been after—
never caught up with you,
but you would come back
if I waited, would you not?

But I can’t entrust tomorrow
with what I can’t do today—
in your dreams or
nightmares and sorrow
I had to find a way
to see you but once
and let the world embrace
the days to come;
I want you to be mine
right now, right here—
I want it all; leave the some
to those who have waited at the shore
not daring to overcome
the troubled sea;
My boat has got a heading,
no more I dare to steer—
I have already strayed too far
no more land in sight;
be my land, with all my might
I’ll quit being a captain,
settle down in your eyes
until there is no more tide,
and the sun grows thin—
it can hold me no more
catching its rays within;
I’ll have won my own sun
and the warmth of your bed
is too hot—
if you were not heaven,
I’d have thought we were in hell.