Archive for June 18th, 2020
Life or the living? This charlatan of a magician
We want to believe we had a dream,
As a kid, reckless, careless, cheerful, forgetful
We must have had a dream, everybody says so…
We cling to that forgotten dream,
Gone with the wind for mysterious reasons.
Now adult and mad, for never recalling what was this beautiful dream
And we create another delusional dream,
Weaved out of and around the skills and talents we scrambled feverishly to acquire and boast of.
And we go crazy, seeing the world in black and white,
Struggling to be convinced that a dream must be an all-right world
Fighting the Great Evil, the Great Satan, master of all the wrong values
And we commit the most absurd acts of violence
On these criminal elements, poisoning our dream value system,
And we go on rampage, carrying banners of the most idiotic arbitrary concepts
Mid-age:
We blame our disillusion on these chaotic and vile realities that is life,
This “foul dust”
Fooling us on a full moonlight
Watching this staircase, a ladder to heaven,
Perched up high to suck on the pap of life
“Gulping down the incomparable milk of wonder…”
Along the way, we missed
These streaks of happy moments,
Failed to observe the real people
Characters rich in complex reality of life.
Along the way, we got lost, and we missed
To empathize with the pain, frustration of all the others’
Diverse dreamers of all kinds of “illusory dreams“,
Just like ours…
This foul dust amidst our chimeric failure,
To whatever we convinced ourselves we were after. for success and happiness
And we are getting old, really old,
And we reach this famous conclusion that
It was all illusion, a drama we played on this comical stage
As if we ever started with anything more than a delusional dream.
Loss of the illusion,
This heavy baggage grown-ups carry and nurse
To enjoy this acrid taste:
Licking our self-made wounds
The hero who wants to end a martyr
For all the dreamers of a better world…
And we missed the reveries, sources of our impossible imagination,
We missed the fact that the rock of our world
“Was and should be founded on a fairy’s wing”
Note: Borrowed a few sentences from Fitzgerald novels
Beggars our “leaders”, pickpockets are our leaders
In the last 30 years, our militia/mafia Leaders made it a point of honor to just beg and borrow money in order to replenish their treasuries.
Sha7adeen ya baladna.
Nashaleen ya baladna.
شحّادين يا بلَدنا
قالو عَنّا شحّادين
نشّالين يا بلدنا
قالو عنّا نشّالين
ونِحنا مين يا بلدنا
نحنا شوَيِّة مظلومين
مظلومين يا بلدنا
إيه وحياتك مظلومين
عطشانين يا بلدنا
والمَيّ بخَمسَه وستّين
جوعانين يا بلدنا
وما عنّا رزّ ولا طحين
طفرانِين يا بلدنا
والبنوكِه مليانين
ومحتارين يا بلدنا
لْ مين منِشكي محتارين
… وُزَرا ونوّاب… لِلبَيع
مُدَرا وحُجّاب… لِلبَيع
شُعَرا وكتّاب… للبَيع
باب وبِوّاب… للبَيع
وليش منُسرق… ما سألتونا
منسرق لأنّو سَرقونا
ليش منبِيع ما سألتونا
منبِيع لأنّو باعونا
سَرقونا الكبار
وباعونا الكبار
ونحنا حراميِّه دراويش
زغار… زغار… زغار
ميشال طعمه ( ١٩٧٤)

Arabian Peninsula antiquity poems: Wars, Love crazed
Note: Re-edit of “Love crazed, Wars.. in Arabian antiquity poems May 22, 2015
Love crazed, Wars.. in antiquity Arabic poems
Loving crazily Leila
I see us in my daydream: 2 gazelles
Peacefully grazing, in the distant pastures of Hawzan
I see us in the desert: 2 pigeons flying back to our nest
Two fish in the waves of the great sea
I see us together in the tomb.
Retreated far away from the world
We will watch a new life resuscitated.
The universe reunited, the meeting eternal
(Majnun Layla (Qays ibn Mullawa3) was denied his wedding with cousin Leila and died very young.
After his death, the legend says that this poet was recognized as the poet laureate of the tribe.
War as described by Zuhair ibn Abi Salma
War is what you have witnessed
It’s not a conjecture
As you ignite war, it surges abominable
As young you excite for war, war flares up
Out of control
War will grind you to the bones
Twice ignited per year, war will produces twins
As sinister as the red star Aad
The more you breastfeed these twins
The more devastated and laid to waste are the villages in Iraq.
(Zuhair ibn Abi Salma lived long and witnessed the emergence of Islam.)
He is famous for the opening line:
“When you live to be 80, without a father, you are doomed to boredom”