There to Stay

Fingertips slowly type:

“Visiting Jerusalem tomorrow night.”

Thoughts whisper weird things;

Most of them make no sense.


The lights went out and the room got chilly,

I shivered a little, thought more:

Tomorrow night..

How is it going to be?

Will the path be as my grandma portrayed it,

As my grandpa once described it?


Long ..

Very long..

Every step will take years to make,

Every laugh will take years to echo

Because of the walls,

Because of the people,

Because of the buildings



It will be there soon enough.


El Masjed will feel our presence

As it shall linger.

It will feel our breaths,

It will hear our hearts,

It will feel our hands as we tickle it

With the same tips of fingers we used:

“Visiting Jerusalem tomorrow night.”


I thought Jerusalem knows how to treat guests

I assumed it was going to be a wonderful visit

I have always wanted to visit Jerusalem.


“Aye, there’s the rub.”


It repelled me and everyone else with me

“Visitors,” said she,


Perplexed, shocked:

Jerusalem could speak?


“Is this your  ambition?

To visit Jerusalem?

To be guests at your own house?

To take luggage for a day only? “


Shameful, scared, speechless, powerless

Haven’t we ever said,

“I am moving to Jerusalem tomorrow night” ?

Where we shall have

” One short sleep past” until

“We wake eternally.”




A First Breath And A Last

“3 .. 2 .. 1 .. Clear!”

Life ended the second it began,

The child grew with the guilt of the loss;

How selfish he felt

When they told him because he came,

She left.

Every time he tried to sleep,

It haunted him until it was time to wake.

The cries of his mother blended in his,

Couldn’t distinguish which is which.

To mourn or to celebrate?

To kiss goodbye or hug hello?

The father was lost ‘twixt

Two opposite worlds:

A thin line between life and death,

Happiness and grief.

He held a life in a hand and sailed another with tears,

He tried to find a way

To escape that endless horizon which adopted his existence:

Mountains seemed to ‘wall’ between freedom and self-imprisonment.

It was to time to run away for both of them:

The father hit by a bus,

The son aged and slept his last temporal death

By the tomb which carried his mother

Like the womb it once carried him.

Inherited Senses

What a beautiful rainbow!
It feels so good to be sure: 
My dad saw this before;
Something I know he laid his eyes on,
Finally, something in common. 

How harmonic the birds sound!
They whistle like when he used to be around:
I now feel like he once did 
When he heard the birds sing.
A memory I make up
For I have never had one.
Now I can say, 

“We heard the same song.” 
Only few years apart, 
but why would I care about the time? 
My mothers’ hands felt so soft tonight; 
Something I know he once gently touched. 
I am sorry to say
They have wrinkles now. 
It’s been so long, 
he’s been away:
somethings changed, others did not. 
And when it rains,
And the soil’s scent spreads, 
I smell what he once smelled. 
Another thing we share, 
One more memory to add. 
And then I call my name:
Once or twice; 
Like I am sure he once did 
When I was a child. 
Although it is my voice, 
letters stay the same. 
I once was ‘memoriless’ 
But I refuse to stay like this
No one can deny or object. 
Rest in your grave
Until one day we join 
Thought it may take long
Eventually we will meet:
And see colors together, 
And hear songs of swallows, 
And hold my mother’s hands- you take 
Her right one, I take Her left- and 
Stand in opposite direction: you smell the flower
And tickle my nose when I ask you to let me smell it; 
And you will call my name, 
And I .. I will, for the first time, 
Call you dad 
And we will have forever
To meet for the first time and make real memories. 

Salvation Lies In The Heart

No one shall ever reconcile
With the beast inside.
No man shall redeem himself,
No man shall see light
So long darkness overpowers,
That darkness that leaps from our weary souls,
That bright gloomy look from what lives within us.
Those fake smiles and fake tears;
Those powerless emotions of faith that fades.
Light is half gone, half never existed
Because we are too proud to admit it.
The human who is made of clay,
The same who shall turn to ash
Is too proud to confront his sins,
Too proud to see the right,
Too proud to live by the law,
The only,
The divine.
It shall last like this for a long time
Until man learns how to cope,
How to fight against the pleasant vices,
How to see what lies beyond the devil,
How to see with his heart
Rather than his eyeballs.


What if things are not what they seem?

What if we are the ones trapped in the mirrors?

What if we live bound to us: the others?

What if Martians are humans?

And Earthans are aliens?

Does it have to be my side of the story?

Is it only yours?

Am I the one with the pen?

And all you write can be erased?

Have we got things right?

Or things have us controlled?

Is the road ahead blur?

Or this is how it is?

This is how it really looks?

And how it should?

What if I want to go early?

And fight against all the odds?

I want to reach there in a hurry,

But forced to stay behind.

I feel so angry and bitter!

For I know if I went there,

Things would have been, for me, better.

Then I hear on the radio a whole hour later

“A car crash on the highway”

Everyone died.

I am left wordless.

I am out of my mind.

A Love Note

All thanks goes to John Keats who inspired me to write this.

As though the stars are asking for thy grace
Yet Thou turn thy back and veil thy face
I feel sorrowful for the flowers around thee
Thou make them as if they are not and will never be

I hear the blackbirds endlessly singing for spring
They joyfully dance and to thy windows cling
My heart is reigned, my soul is chained
Thine eyes have led me to eternal pain

Compelled to find love in thine eyes
compelled to feel those endless sighs
How heartful can a heartless man like me be
When all he wishes for is thee?

Shall I tell the world how much I am hypnotized?
Or leave it to myself so no one else by thee is mesmerized?