Christmasless

Dear MOM,

If ink was the blood you needed to live, i would have written the poem of infinity. If thoughts would bring back the smell f your cheeks, i would have rethought this entire existence a million times over. If prayers would bring back a sight of your glossy smooth skin, i would have prayed for each God ever written. If feeling you beside me is a simple crossover to another stage of being, i would have been there already. If keeping you in the living is freezing time as i freeze in my hardest forms, i would reinvent physics and science.

You were robbed from your being and i was robbed of meanings, as if you’ve invented them, as if you’ve ignited my life with ongoing heartbeat, as if you were my eternal language.

I can hear you in every music i play, i can see you in every place i reach, i can feel you with every sense i perceive, i loose you in every reason i try to make.

I recap my entire life over and over, each passing hour, as if this is turning into an ever looping time machine. As if my present is trying to talk to my past. As if the continuum of being has been shattered the moment i saw you laying on white sheets, stained from your loosing battle with life.

I try to wash you off with tears, but that is as if dark clouds tried washing earth’s mountains and seas.

How may i bring you back other then in my dreams? which alchemy, or sorcery, or perception of living can i invent? How can you be so present, yet non-existent, so alive, but yet not living, so loving yet with no senses to give.

I want to think that a piece of me was broken, but rather, i find myself struggling with the concept of me, without you.

Merry Christmas mom!

12-24-17- 10:21pm – 11:16pm

I waited for you

May-18-2017 – 6:05am

In bed, head deep into a dream of inverse reality. I waited for your smooth sway in the house makes up my oxygen to stay alive. I waited for your soft voice that song the eternal remedy for my life despair. I waited for your soft touch to tap my shoulder and wake me up, as if some mythic goddess, never praised enough, never unproven by science, paid me a visit. I waited for the look of your smile that put perplexity at shame and gives me daily fuel to make sense of living and carry on my engine of life.

I waited for your first words to me as if you invent love with each word that leaves your rose lips. I waited for your hug as if I was a prisoner in chains, shackles and needed your hug to be deliberated from the pain of not living. I waited for you as if I’ve never learned to wait for anything so precious or divine as you. I waited for you as I’ve waited for my first meal of the day, prepared by the best cooks of Eden.

I waited for your goodbye as I walk through another page of my life as if you were the fingers that flip my book each day. I waited for you as I was away from you, I counted the moments I get a glimpse of you like a fetus waiting for his first day. I waited for your presence around me as if you are the only reason why my timeline had a present.

I waited for you to walk into my room like an audience awaits the play of their lifetime in a presidential theater. I waited for you to inspire me each day as if I was mute, death and blind without you. I waited for you to get better, as if you are so divine, nothing can touch you or take you away from me.

I waited for your pains to go away as if pain had no business being without you.
I waited for your silence when silence was the only energy needed to keep this earth a spin.
I waited for you to approve my every single move, thought, action, reaction, as if you are the judge and the road to guidance, which shows me right from wrong.

I waited for you every waking moment of my life since I opened my eyes and will continue to until the unfair course of living stops. I waited for you to slow down my clock as if I was never there unless you existed in my moment as if you moved my clock. I waited for you to share my love for things as if I never loved anything we did not share together.

I waited for you to open your eyes for me and tell me one more time: “ Take care of yourself habibi” as if I lived in a world of savage uncertainty and your words made it safer. I waited for your call as if your words transmitted telephony. I waited for you as I walked through the alley of the unknown as if you are my guarantee to keep living. I waited for you as I ventured on a new path as if you will be there to catch me anytime I fall.

I waited for you

– 6:24am

Rain and Her

The bell rings, the light drizzle of rain slowly massages your cheeks while cleaning your pure guilt from tormented passions. You walk fast as the rain gets heavier and the bell is about to finish its cycle, and there it is, one beautiful piece of existence, sitting on the side of a curb staring at the magnificent view of the gloomy horizon over the bluest sea.

Her face shines as if the rain cannot get to her and the sun is above her as if it was born just to warm up her shadow. Waves of the waters mimicking her gentle smile and with each breath she takes, the clouds dance a beautiful tango. Her hair blowing lightly as if the dust of the universe caresses her head while playing the strings of a guitar made of the milky way.

She stands and start walking your way like she was drawn to you by a magical force of attraction. As she gets closer your eyes come to contact, and there it was, the answers to every love you have ever looked for, every mystery that ever baffled you, every story that did not have an ending, every theory science could not proof, every moment that leads to you being there that moment.

Then she passes and never turns back, neither do you, as the magic of something sacred that passed is followed by a must feel regret to be felt until the moment replicates itself in another existence.

The Grin

Let swim the grin, across your chin, and the one thousand sins, you wish you can tint, behind your words and your hints, quickly become a weapon, a flint, you stab your chest with then sprint, at the splinted weak heart to leave your footprint, but there is no space for another trace, so you chase the shadow of an old place, that once left a grin on your face, and you cannot replace, with a thin glaze of a Taizé.
Let swim the grin of an untouched conscious, of a sole self master, of a slave with thousand lashes, of a disciplined pastor, who prays for buried ashes, to resurrect into a living emotion, that will always exist even after the last light flashes, and darkness passes, through your heart with a grin.

Homesickness- It keeps on coming back

Each time i’m alone, soul tired and mind intoxicated by the prolonged dreams of progress, it hits me, like a withdraw from a bad addiction or a strong headache after a bottle of cheap scotch.
Shame on a country that separates parents and siblings, friends and memories, loved ones and chirpy feelings of soul surrender to another. But the world goes on, people grow apart but missed, feelings undergo metamorphism and the secret tears become more rare but heavier then the unforgotten lost moments of memories that could have been made if one would have stayed back home.

Trickle down the boredom stream

Plotted against myself i find it difficult to gather the inner crush i had of the person who touched and changed my nucleus. The despair of a fear, and the dread of a bloody tear, the yearn of a smile and of attention i have had for a while, are caging me behind invisible bars. The invisible shackles have bled and bled until they turned into old rusted memories of a lonesome man. But the beautiful face of a falling star shines and sweeps the colors of darkness from under the dead trees, then blows a kiss at the lonely heart of the heartbroken to awaken emotions only felt by eternity when marrying death.
7:25pm

Crushed

The ticks of the clock falls from the flow of eternity and breaks, awakening the deep worries buried within the deepest corners of the ignorant soul.

The consistent tries to make thing work in a fascinating way has turned into an effective tool to craft lines on the present so that tears find their ways to the murky waters of deception and self torture.

No thought is pure enough to surface the mind and break the door that locks the real spirits within the one spirit. A whole world locked within me is ready to fade and become one boring lonely speck of nothingness. So why there is 33 spots i cannot locate in my heart? are they the dwindling lifespan on my human spiritual progress? or is the self timer about to awaken me when i am in my deepest state of infused anesthesia?

Dreams are blackened by the happy moments that are drawn on the window of soul indulgence and crippled satisfaction.

There is no ending to my train of thoughts that flow through my brain to leave me paralyzed with bits of imagination that realty envies so much that it dreads and fears.

Born addicted, then became addicted once more to the beauty of unattainables.

The body rest in peace while the mind goes into a deep stage of epiphany about unseen unreality.

I am loving it,