Swirls of Dust
Little heads steeped in ironic obsessions
Are less likely to reach out the tassels of
My cushion.
Far-fetched is the legacy that drags us
Behind a veneer of modernism.
Don’t bump your head unless I tell you
For empty heads jingle, then clunk into life
Waking up to ideas lazy enough to be
Metamorphosed into acoustic slices of reality
Down-to-earth and digestible…
I swore an oath to suspend the verdict
To suspend the sanctions yet to come.
Swirls of dust never entertain truth, never
Entertain perennials…
Peace
Air of the moon hoists the flag P in the forest
Fire marks the ladder E on man's forehead
With the nicest globules of wax.
Earth pitches the tent A and then scents the
Coming dawn.
Water waits for the rainbow C to form
To make the sun shine through the rain.
Blood clots when the podium E is lost
To the rest of the letters.
Some Day
Some day, they will celebrate the crime of my success
Some day, they will crown my head with faith and blasphemy
Some day, they will strew my own path with pretty petals
Irrigated with nostalgic sap and chauvinistic tears.
Some day, they will put out the lights while decoding the West
Some day, the beautiful face of authority will be disfigured
The policeman will shout himself hoarse, will end up unheard.
Some day, I will knead colors into flags of practical use
Trees of ordinary rarity and books hardly worth thinking about.
Patience and Gestation…
Patience keeps waiting for
Your Noah to rise from the dust
From the presumed flood
Ingratitude works with some
Dysfunctions with some others.
Don’t give in the upper hand
For the lower one exudes faith
Exudes a multi-shaped struggle.
Only those who sleep in could they
Make up something from sheer nothing
Moralist as you are, I fear the cops
Who bribe while whimper reservedly.
Misfortune follows my footsteps
Jealous of my godly glances
Of my earthly stances.
I can see the azure ahead of me
Ahead of every dreamy child who
Indulges in Rodin’s.
Their patience is wearing thick
Waiting for Eve to gestate…
Waiting for the mosaic of Ulysses
To emanate...
Aleppo in Adjacent Mourning
Children in the lap of magma
Make out of the ashes a shouting
Teddy bear.
Neither found, nor self-propelled
Ballistic missiles playing hide-and-seek
Leaving twenty-first-century orphans
To a futile seek.
Flayed is Tadmur between powers insane
Between Bald Eagle and Grim Reaper stained
Nothing remains but a walking rubble
Of the silhouette of a family in rented refuge.
Oh World! Aleppo oozes eclipsed dawns
Oozes an inviolable Penthos.
Victoria will rise above an embossed
Design lipped by a single mother bereft
Above a wind-up toy cherished and left.
A Virgin Ruby Unfettered
Your hyacinth shrinks from my very candle
Nothing gives a shudder in the absolute
Paradise in miniature sneaks its way into
The ruby moments of blessing.
My melting globules of wax witness
Your fructose-gravitated flowerpot
They ram home the germs of posterity
Into your legendary chrysanthemum
I'm born to CUPID that flags the nectar
Of APHRODITE consumed Twice
And unfathomably.
Oh Time! don't get fleeting for my flower
Girl mesmerizes the electrified protons
Of our fusion, mesmerizes the ethereal
Embrace of Caelus and Terra.
Sliding is our memory that will pitch
Layla and Majnun into the heartstrings
Of galaxy.
Edgy fire always puts ruby blood on pedestal
For arable physicality clasps a full-fledged soul.
If only you kneaded our madness into
A temporal fresco to enshrine love in every
Park bench, in every sacred flowerbed
In every brevity.
A Virgin Ruby Unfettered
Your hyacinth shrinks from my very candle
Nothing gives a shudder in the absolute.
Paradise in miniature sneaks its way into
The ruby moments of blessing.
My melting globules of wax witness your
Fructose-gravitated flowerpot.
They ram home the germs of posterity
Into your legendary chrysanthemum
I'm born to CUPID that flags the
Nectar of APHRODITE consumed
Twice and unfathomably.
Oh Time! don't get fleeting my flower girl
Mesmerizes the electrified protons of our
Very fusion, mesmerizes the ethereal embrace
Of Caelus and Terra.
Sliding is our memory that will pitch
Layla and Majnun into the heartstrings
Of galaxy.
Edgy fire always puts ruby blood on pedestal
For arable physicality clasps a full-fledged soul.
If only you kneaded our madness into
A temporal fresco to enshrine love in every
Park bench, in every sacred flowerbed
In every brevity.
