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

Uncle Bruce writes sermons and gives grace at the Christmas table
his family bowed their heads
and listened to what they thought of as
"quaint"
"old time-y"

Most of them there were atheists
or maybe Catholics
(it depended on the side of the table)
and even Uncle Bruce was not sure what he believed in, not yet, not yet
after 53 years, he wasn't sure
(he had always been a smart man)
even after debating how many angels could dance on the head of a pin
and preaching for years behind the pulpit

What Uncle Bruce does know, he does
He gives us all faith

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

Im drowning
In
A sea of tissues
And Im not even sure if it’s the flu anymore

Im just sitting here
Behind a screen
Helpless
And unable to do a thing

I really wish I could just
Bring you out of that mess
But alas
Life doesn’t work that way

So don’t worry darling
Don’t fret
For I understand
And I don’t mind
If
You
Can’t
Say
Anything

Because I know
You are still
Alive and well
And that you still
Have the other mam
To talk to

I wish I was there though
To catch those
Precious
Tears

I really wish I could