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 Feb 11 Àŧùl
Liana
There are a dozen songs playing in my head
Melodies mixing together creating a mess of music
I am lying on my bed
Jumbled words like a sea without logic

Tears rolling down my cheek
For I left my heart open
It is strong but also weak
Things knocked it over and the glass is now broken

My ceiling fan stares down on me
Telling me all that needs to be done
I just need a moment in silence just to be
Things barely ever even seem fun

The whole day's energy
Was spent on keeping myself together
And now
I just need to be broken
I don't usually attempt rhyming, but I tried this time.
Cannot grasp how deep I adore,
A feeling I've never felt before.

Wonder how you shape my heart,
Even though it's never a tender part.

So tell me, what should I do?
Shall I unveil my heart to you?

Here's my heart, now it's yours,
Its sorrows and joys are yours.

Sorrows gloom, a lasting doom,
Joys bloom, erasing the gloom.

Indeed, both are true,
But, it was always you.
By Menna Abd-Eldaiem
Translator and Poetess
You can see her among Egyptian girls' styles.
Her rosy lips are like Tharia's when she smiles.

Her eyes glow like Thania's, twin stars shine,
Her wavy hair cascades, parted to the left, neatly in line.

With the sweetest hairstyle, she seems like Kamal's bride,
Her deep golden wheat skin mirrors Khadra's pride.

Her tenderness, as breeze, shows Sawsan's grace.
Blush roses on her cheeks, painting a glimmering face.

Oh my God, truly, she is a masterpiece.
Her photo moves from hand to hand, hearts aspiring peace.

A gaze of pity towards her youth,
While those unaware wonder about truth.

Djamila's fate, a truth, can not be silenced to set her free.
Djamila from Algeria, the land by the Mediterranean sea.

Proudly, knights of legends, our brethren sharing the Arab identity.
A flag planted, fluttering on the peak, symbol of fidelity.

Those abandoning their homes, comfort, and warmth.
Standing firm for justice, to live a dignity's worth.

A rebel from the people's heart, who hates the wrongs, brave and true.
She loves Algeria, songs, buildings, gardens, and children, too.

Djamila's fate lies beyond all imagination's might,
She runs while bleeding,O wound, endure the plight.

Locals count the days, and my love for Algeria exceeds worship.
Cut and run, with a bullet in her shoulder, bones shattered in hardship.

She bled, ran, until she crumbled from strain.
The attack dogs caught her, yet she never surrendered despite the pain.

Yet she never spilled, despite torture, crucifixion, and relentless force.
Oh, the sorrow for the youth, trapped in dogs' jaws, with no remorse.

They wrote torment upon her, where wedding vows should have been.
The world spins, and the eye has silently seen.

In her picture, her eyes, like Thania's, appeared.
Fading lips that once laughed like Tharia's, that now disappeared.

Her wavy hair, parted from the left side,
It was soaked in blood rather than cascading like Kamal's bride.

The apple of her mother’s eye, the sprite of strife,
Djamila’s fate is a load  that even mountains can not strive.

A single string from the violin's heart wailed in the anthem's prelude for her,
The remaining strings screamed without tears, reaching the throats of the masses everywhere

Before the courthouse door, the crowd stands still, singing a thunderous song,
While judges, a ruthless band, with hearts of stone, their judgment wrong.

As if upon their eyes, a haze,
A blood upon their hands, ablaze.
They listen to the songs, as in a distant land, so wide,
What good are meanings in mind, so dark and blind?

Through endless nights, the guillotine is whetted, chains are drawn,
While in her cell, she waits till dawn.

Throughout the night, the battles rage within the mountain’s stronghold deep,
And Jamila, through the storm and cage, lives on hope, her soul to keep.

O hero, move forward with the rifle in your hand,
Let the fire ignite, for the battle will stand.

For Djamila, her fate is naught but never to give up.
No escape from striving, nothing but to rise up.
-Written by Salah Jaheen, a leading Egyptian poet, lyricist, playwright, and cartoonist.
-Translated by Menna Abd-Eldaiem
Translator and Poetess
-Djamila Bouhired is an Algerian nationalist militant who opposed the French colonial rule of Algeria as a member of the National Liberation Front.
 Feb 7 Àŧùl
rick
I lie
and
I lie
and
I lie

I hide my behavior
to keep you safe.

I keep quiet
not to offend you.

I agree with you
to keep you happy.

I walk on eggshells
for you and
it’s never enough.

I lie
and
I lie
and
I lie

but when the truth
arrives at that
final moment;

jaws will drop
plates will shatter
dogs will growl

and
you’ll be long gone
after seeing what
a ghastly beast
I am

but for now

I lie
and
I lie
and
I lie

to keep us
together.
 Feb 7 Àŧùl
rick
I’m in Vietnam right now overlooking the city at 3am watching the ** Chi Minh lights work their shades of violet and jade into the black mass of night.
there’s a lot of poverty out there and with it a lot of generosity.
I commend them for that because while deep-rooted in the garden bed of desolation, I can’t override these frustrations on feeling defeated.
I went to school, participated, put forth the effort and made the grade but the board felt I wasn’t worthy enough when it came to the final test.
the only thing I achieved was retaining monikers such as loser and failure because I have lost and I have failed.
the smallest obstacle had become my biggest hurdle and I am too mentally and physically exhausted to quash it.
each step I take feels frozen and keeps dragging across wet cemented floors
& the skies have listened to my screams
but delivers no answers.
my god, have I given up?
it’s not likely for me to do so.
especially when so much was riding on life.
I watch the motorbikes zoom pass my psyche
as a Tiger beer falls from the balcony and shatters in the debris. a wet heavy sorrow suffocates my heart.
I sob. I weep. I cry. I fall. I wail.
I must resurrect and rise like the sun, the smoke, the symphony but my focus escapes me and I lose my hope.
my mind turns to the system; they decide
who makes a better world and who gets
tucked away in the dust.
but I can’t blame the system, only myself and
my inabilities to try once again until
I’ve reached my success.
I gaze over a man yelling at a woman while roasting a chicken down below.
they’re trying to make it out there on the ***** streets of Saigon.
fighting to survive. one more day. one more time. one more ounce of life.
and my biggest struggle is only with myself.
my stubborn brain clashing against everything I worked so hard for.
beating myself up, tearing myself down,
all that time, money and effort: wasted.
it was all  for nothing, I screamed, it was all for nothing as my half naked woman sleeps behind a green curtain and a red rooster crows at another new day full of possibility.
 Feb 7 Àŧùl
Pratibha
She is a moment-
Carried by all waves,
Shouldn't  you show me
Some way out.

Beneath the sky-
I see her shadows,
But as the petals never do come in hand,
So does she as the moment passes away.

And so she drift, like petals on waves,
Wanting to stay, but meant to fade.
 Feb 7 Àŧùl
Immortality
I walk alone,
where the sand forgets me.

Water calls ahead,
"It looks real",
"But so does a mirage".

My throat begs,
but my mind doesn't trust.

So,
I watch from afar.
POV-
hope vs fear
 Feb 7 Àŧùl
Immortality
we met again,
two strangers,
carrying the same memories.

time stopped too,
when our eyes met,
whispered hello.

but this time,
we walked away,
knowing the future.
right time, right person.... just not fated :)
 Feb 7 Àŧùl
Pratibha
Hope we knew the future,
Hope we knew how to lose the threads of the past.
What we know is to overcome such fear,
Live our lives and cherish our dear.

Wish we knew how to live with only happiness—
No sorrow, no emptiness.
But they say a life of only joy is boring,
So we must hold faith and keep restoring.

Live with the tapestry, hold your breath.
Magic will unfold, erasing all wrath.
The moment will come—"Amen" is the key.
Set those fears ablaze, and you'll live free.
 Feb 7 Àŧùl
Pratibha
The more I love the more I loose
Now that I have lost the one
There is nothing I shall call upon
For the sake of those we shall live
Fulfill our duties and we must leave
To the days we have survived
For those days still yet to come
Nothing inside of me can know my true side
I shall call upon the dear lord
For the sake of those lives
After which we shall leave
And we are all forgotten after a while.
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