I have this ache, Doctor. And so far, no amount of drugs or drink have been able to cure it. Where does it hurt, you ask? Why right here, Doctor. Right here in my chest.  It started feeling odd when I saw HER for the first time. It was a Thursday; August eighteenth of two thousand eleven I believe. I remember her perfectly, for I had not, and have not, seen anybody more beautiful in my life. Her auburn hair was  streaked with red and waterfalled  perfectly over her delicate shoulders, that were on that day cloaked in a blue jacket. Her long graceful fingers bloomed from slender palms and were crowned with an elegant black nail polish with a cracked silver finish. To this day, I have never so much as imagined anybody more perfect than her. So what's my problem? Well Doctor, she hates me. I can see it glint in her dark eyes every time she looks at me. Why is this? Why I have not the slightest idea. All I have ever been was polite to her. All I have ever been was kind. When she shivers I give her my jacket, regardless of how cold I am at the time. When she is hungry, I use my last dime to feed her. I do everything in my power to make her happy, make her laugh when pain adds weight to her shoulders. But I guess it just wasn't enough in the end. What do you prescribe, did you say? An entire bottle of pain pills and a slash down each wrist? That sounds about right. Thank you, my dear Doctor.

I find I'm not a good-enough friend.
Because I'm too much of an awkward turtle,
I'm a coward when facing life's hurdles.
My words seem like they can't be trusted,
And secrets can't be trusted on me.

I find I'm not a good-enough friend.
I don't know what to say sometimes.
I try to strike a conversation
That I so regret at times.

I find I'm not a good-enough friend.
I feel like I come from a different planet,
A different dimension,
Or a different era.

I find I'm not a good-enough friend.
I'm not resourceful,
I can't be of help.
I'm just a meek little lamb.

I find I'm not a good-enough friend.
I'm scared of things,
Not brave,
Not courageous,
I'm way too out of place.

Oh someone please teach me how
I can be more than
A good-enough friend.

God loves a hill and he made them round
God loves them auburn and he made them brown
he made them firm and he made them soft
and how they move as they walk only God so talks
(I stop what I'm doing and I pretend not to watch.)
I’m a cannonball that’s untethered loosed
I’m the deck on a ship
who doesn't love a good storm
they come as dappled light
upon my forest floor
filtering through the trees
and I’d swear in their presence
I become a cathedral
I can sense their divinity
they take my breath here's when:
when all the air is sucked out from the room
I'm in
it's how puzzle pieces fit
and they know they just belong
it's about how nature loves a crooked line
who doesn't love a crooked song
it’s about take Botticelli when Venus
emerged from the sea a fully grown woman:
paint her some clothes on
and if I may Lord
if only to
allude
hint
suggest
this blessing from which sprang
the most beauteous bountiful
and bouncy of your creations
from out of your vastness
incomprehensible and magnificent
from the source of all song
have mercy on us Lord
who can resist fragility and blue steel
that mix of loose with tight
the stillness and the storm
the soft on the edge of firm
the contrast of a thousand turns
the dark weaves in da light
you killing me Lord
you killing me

in your magnificence.

I often write about you
Creating an imaginary scene for us both
I know,call me sentimental
Or emotional,either really
But isn't this what they call dreaming?
Building clouds of invisible nines
Where you kiss me
And say "You know,I think I really like you."
Or the days we might grow old together
Sit by the porch
Listen to the music
You swore you would play for me
(I want to hold your hand)
I can already see
The letters you've written to me
Telling me of all the adventures
You want to go with me
Exploring every part of New York
Because that's the place we both love
And as I walked down the aisle
I know that every sadness I've ever felt about us
Would just drift off
As we say "I do."
Perhaps our first kiss
Would not be like the movies
We would be awkward
And laugh at ourselves
For thinking too much
Sometimes I would get paranoid
And try to keep you tighter by my side
But understand that
I only do that because I truly love you
The worst that could happen
In this dream
Is that we break up
And our hands touch for the last time
A goodbye peck on the cheek
"Stay friends okay?"
And we go in different directions
Becoming strangers again

The Weather Channel,
ubiquitous,
Who among us does not have this app,
On their phone, computer, mobile device
Ready for a quick scan..

Odd topic for an essay,
Strange, that your poetic silence
Should be broken this way,
Then again, you didn't inquire,
Or even notice it had gone missing.

Yet the channel of which I write,
Is mobile, and certainly, applies to each of us
But cannot be found on any device but in our hearts..

When we awaken,
The temperature is taken,
A glance upon your visage
Reveals rested or irritable,
Blue clouds or storm warnings,
Better dress appropriately...

But even this is not the forecast
Of which my heart and words speak,,
The whether I need, the thermometer reading,
The barometric pressure that needs knowing,
Measures whether you love me still,
Love me more, love me better,
Than the last poem/day we just wrote/recorded,
Yesterday...

The channels we will yet navigate,
The sky we shall observe,
Cloud shapes to design and designate,
A fortune to prognosticate,
Is the sum f the fortunes/forecasts we create daily.

Our weather is our good fortune,
And strangely the forecast is the same daily,
Whether fair or hurricane,
Whether gladdened or pained,
Our forecast, ours,
Our forecast, unique,
Our forecast, let us record it into reality,
When we awaken entangled,
Looking out the window and envision and
Predict our life-scape.

Rejected once again...
and I have to wonder why.
No knight in shining armor
am I,
no prince charming...
just a good man
with an open heart,
wondering why.

Mhm.
That’s me.
Always.
Just a step too late.

Too busy
Too slow
Too far away
Cut off
Not there

I don’t know how others do it
Especially
You two
You always manage
To find
Them
And
Make
Everything
Better

Me?
I’m nowhere
In sight

We are the Palestinians,
maybe you know us as the terrorists,
or as the serial killers,
but we are the generous,
we are the defenders,
we are the peace holders,
and how much the media tried,
it will never ever change the fact,
and we are the ones being attacked,
the truth will be out someday,
and Palestine will be free, you'll see,
whatever you show the world on the TV,
have you ever tasted our tea?
or ate falafel or tabula under the tree?
we teach life after they have occupied our paradise,
after they have built their settlements and walls,
but the question is,
is anyone there?
will anyone listen to that crying girl?
i wish i could just destroy these walls,
free the souls,
wake up the dead,
and make peace instead,
i hope this just a nightmare,
that we'll all wake up of someday!

- Layth Awwad

The pain ended and the last tears fell,
i finally got out of hell,
i found a strength as strong as steel,
what i found is totally real.

You want me down to earth,
but i'm up in space,
just like a phoenix on his rebirth,
and i'm no longer out of place.

Come and take over me,
all i can do is agree,
i can hear you call my name,
saying welcome to the game,
come on and set me free.

I cannot hold on, i will not let go,
i'm seeing the signs from above,
i'm gonna be the one that you love,
you're so pure as the snow,
but we all fall like a domino.

Living here is not paradise,
i have paid the price,
but at least it's home,
and i'm in my zone,
this is what it feels like to win the PRIZE!

- Layth Awwad