Illusions

There are two regular illusions in my life, one of them is when I close my eyes and live a dream, the other is when I open them back again and live the nightmare. . .

Al-Zaatari

What will happen if the cold kept being so strong, with falling snow?

Tell me dad…

Dearest daughter, the cold will freeze you, and take your soul

And the falling snow will make it fly.

For all your friends have flown before

And their homes were torn down to the ground

So it’s your turn to fly and burn; 

And therefore later will be mine.

But dad remember, what you said two years ago, when I was five

That a human being can never fly, nor can she make it to the sky!

Oh sweetie, I remember very well…

When you were young two years ago

When you were five, your brain was small, and time was slow

But now you’ve lived in streets and tents

And seen the blood upon the snow

You’ve seen your mother without a head

And seen your brother without a hand

Your biggest dream has become to find a piece of bread

And to make from people’s trash and junk, a cozy bed!

Two years ago, I told you things that aren’t true

I taught you lies, to make you smile

To make you have an easy life

I said we’re humans; we help each other when things go bad

I said that god won’t leave the poor

I thought that god will always be on the miserables’ side

But I was wrong, and now you’re old

I am hoping that you’ll understand!

My babygirl, I’ve lived so long, you’ve lived too short

But your last two years felt like they were a thousand more

They made you look so much older than before

Now your eyes are bloody red

And your face is whiter than the snow

And in a few, you will be gone

Maybe you’ll see your lovely mom, but maybe not

And when you leave, my life will cease

And after that I’ll make a river from my tears

For life has taken all my dears…

Dearest dad, I only have some words to say

Before I breathe my final breath, and angels take me far away

I love you dad as much as I hate to see you sad

I love you dad, so sing me one last lullaby

About the soul and when it flies, it becomes a phoenix in the sky

And how it lightens a lovely path for all the kids around the world

And how it then becomes a star

Sing me that, and hold my hand

I lived enough to see your love, but now it’s time for my goodbye

It pains me much that what we were has broken down;

It tears me down at the very end to see you cry

I lived and loved and I was loved
I lived and loved and I was loved
I lived and loved, but now it’s time. . .

Oak-man

As long as you’re around, you are always forgotten

Like a street dirty cat, or a shoe that is rotten

But as soon as you’re gone, the faceless ones will come

In the funeral day, they’ll all have lies to say!

A few before your down, when you sensed you were nothing

Emotionally detached, and surrounded by the living

It was ticking and ticking, you had missed the last train

Nothing was left for you but loitering in life on an endless old rail

That very last whisper in your ear said dear oak, I am autumn

I am afraid I have to leave; your last winter is coming

So, this time it’s different, I’ll never be back again

And the leaves that you've loved, will fall away forever,

They’ll find another tree; they’re falling in with winter

Dear oak, don’t you humble before the winter and your green

Don’t you dare giving up who you've been

die with dignity, give up and leave, give up and leave

Blah

Sometimes everything I write appears to me as scribbled lines on a piece of paper, but some other times I find them shaping that beautiful smile of yours

When religion reaches power, when it gets social, political and economic abilities, it won't hesitate to become as dirtily and impurely dominant as you've never seen!

Alone As Ever...

It is when darkness becomes an inseparable friend, and a rotten story rules, and words become frivolous, crummy and piteous, not being listened to as if they'd never been said, sounding like they’re coming out of a mouth, not a brain, coming out and only because they’re useful, powerful and undefeatable, not because they’re real nor true, not even needing to be said nor heard!

when racing around the same circle becomes a routine, a duty, all the spots and all the scenes are familiar, are the same; they’re standing still, frozen in time forever, my ever! They’re not so unintelligible as to be misunderstood, and you are not so esoteric as to be an immortally unanswered question. You become who you really are, an empty page, conspicuously legible, and nothing is left in you to quench my thirst,  like an unfilled hollowed glass, neat as a pin.

When desire and lust rule over the deep inside of my self, which said, and kept saying constantly and repeatedly no, no, all the time no.

And When the trace that you mightily wanted to leave vanishes away from the scene, and the you that you've never been, evanesces in the wind. When the whole picture turns out to be just a bunch of frozen things, in a very feckless unimportant moment.

A uniquely built character in the story collapses and becomes as unscrupulously conventional as the rest. And I once again become as lonely and desperate as I was once upon a time!

Going away...

Today, what is today?
Just another one that passes away.
It's a while ago since it meant a thing to me
it's a while ago, but it feels like it only was yesterday.
Places become darker, and people become beasts
with whom I can't live, nor can I stay.
But sometime soon
when the wilderness is frozen 
and the sky without a moon
I'll get up and leave
I'll find a way
I'll keep walking and walking
so far away...