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Nov 2017 · 491
Segments
Quite the start to the weekend
There it goes, watch it ends
These pages are made of dust
What is half read is still unread
Tree of paper leaving glue trail
In search of the perfect bookmark
I found a place for receipts to recuperate

I locked eyes with Jupiter
On a wooden coffee table
The great counterclockwise storm
Ticking away with each drop
Disaster, sky without a star

Heaven receives blessings,
On slow workdays
When martyrs are lucky enough to live
We swore by that which divides day and night,
and fails to conquer either
That Faith must not pass the gate
Until they call for prayer
Until the square of crossroads is clear
Sometimes I feel like a disbeliever in Jerusalem

Prayers manifest duality as one
So shoulders can shrug in unison
Banal attempts to restore faith
Outrage is out of reach
The mind sets red-tape traps,
We call that mindless assertions
In the climate of trumpets and megaphones
Nothing escapes poltics
Vicious cyclones of “Breaking News" cycles
"I see pictures of children in faraway places that wreck me for a day"
Dec 2014 · 993
The Face of Insomnia
I've always found your epic tales of great essence and good taste
Surely, you can disregard my prayers,
and have no one question my faith
While your Prophets ascend and descend
Like waiters serving humanity its placebo dose of salvation

Water into wine, moon splitting into two,
cheap magic tricks inside
Nothing is revealed as deep rooted anxieties remain
I've always found your humanlike contradictions ever so humbling
But why must I pray five times a day,
shake my head against some wall
Or have your son die for my sins?
Mere motions by hearts with pseudo devotion

Insomnia has a name, too
Little truths reflected at the bottom of teacups
Gathered in caffeine particles
Stroked by last night
Glimpse of glistening white teeth
Particular to those who drink coffee with a straw!

My God, Allah, Jehovah, (or in any other order)
You, witnessing my struggle
Caffeinated and rushed
As I slump to slumber
Face brushing the cushions
My prayers are lacking, I complain

O father, I can't go on, no longer!
Spare me the afterlife tragedies
And your abusive anger
For insomnia has a name
An eternal sleep, tales of woes
A distress call inviting you, my unwanted anxiety
Dec 2014 · 1.5k
Voidhole
Arabs are on their knees
Command them left and right, whatever you please
The female goddess with her divinity
But she mustn't succumb to her desires
Cursed with a voidhole, a witch with no flying stick

Strike the strings and they will shiver
Their Gods with invested interest in genitalia,
Debating vice and virtue
Perverted thoughts, oh, let them pass
As she rubs her blood oozed inner thighs
I can hear the delicate moans and quivers

Society under her thumb
Quickening breath, fast paced heart and wide *******
At last, the land of promised *******
Virginity fetishists with holy manuscripts
Tribal war, the darkest of blood

Mount your ******* to the highest heights
Reach their moral mountains and hijack their sanity
Fear stricken by your circular thumb-motions
For they will associate ***** blood with vanity

Ignorance at their gates
No light escapes, shattered lives
Facts infecting their pride
Worshiped not for her intellect nor beauty
But for the voidhole she carries
In the desert sand, she remains a liability
Until she becomes a miserable bride
Virginity and female sexuality in the Arab world.
Dec 2014 · 1.1k
Uncertain Realities
In the midst of all there is to live
The crawling uncertainty, the laziness of souls
The crippling doubt that rules us all
Her gaze is shown, a lighthouse wearing a red stole

Hours reduced to seconds and not much to spare
A sip of winter ***, delicate move of hands, hips unbound
Fingers slip, chocolate lipped, spurred moments
Tamed desires unleashing round breast-bites on empty appetites
Quickening shivers, last minute kiss and our time is undelivered

Words amounting to clichés and graceful, still, is her face
The provoked eyes of adolescence delight my wary ghost
I no longer linger in uncertain realities
Raise a glass to the possibilities and what to come
In the shadows I find you, my cure
For you see, my disintegration never had a meaning
So let us dwell between uncertain realities, least we find ourselves a host

One year amounting to a lifetime
Dreams of promised serenity are greater still
What lies beneath the Arabian sun? Nothing but Imprisoned spirits, enslaved birds and wild ignorance
Larger than life talks of reform, crumbling yet, in our first test

Remembrance of past ways
Everything fate has in store for us
Even odds were aligned in phases
Mountains of passion sprung high

I’m a spectator, you control my letters

Little by little, unnerved attempts
Oceans of black uncharted seas
Various letter arrangements and lines
Eventually leading to the sublime

Your embrace and my sea metaphors
Oslo awaits, but waves won’t abate
Until one day, when our minds abide
Sep 2014 · 815
A Message To A Nearby Void
Strange times I live in
The age of social media and social struggles
my attention span is slightly longer than three lines of poetry

Stranger still is my moods and thrills
What the days have in store, nothing but the old tale of man and death
It keeps me running, forever asking for more, and here comes more

Must I become God, alienate myself, condemn our sins for a cheap righteous thrill?

Strange times I live in, I want to be 21 for entirety
I must become an established author
So my words may sink deeper in the pages of history
But all I have is my unnecessary sufferings
To translate my passion into fortune
And money is still worshiped
And nothing's sincere in things we worship

Or maybe I will join the actors up on that stage,
To get paid, busy myself and to ignore life's questions
I can almost her them shouting "giddy up! here's a mundane thing or two, I hope you can multitask"

I want to be a spectator on the side
Lingering in shadows, waiting for my act,
Forever waiting, even if I had no calling
For I hardly find a motive to get out of bed

So please, send in your warships, for man has outlived their Gods
And these strange times, are getting stranger still and I do not wish to live them through
Emotions run deep, and deeper they must seep
But what do they seek?
Nothing but sheltering words,
be it from a Sheik, or a Greek.

The imagery is both out-worldly and unspeakably realistic
We try to find a way, a channel, a historical shuttle
Only to have it expressed in vague words
"Here, another puzzle".

The words dance in rhythms and riddles
Sometimes unfathomable,
Yet once aligned, they cast a spell.

The spell is poetry.. and it has a society
Countless souls, and souls yet to come
11th of August, marked the arrival of its rightful king
Tired and tireless, a lifetime of embodying poetry

O captain, my captain!

Let us roam the forgotten streets and share a bottle of cheap gin

Let us whisper inappropriate jokes into the ears of those who deem suicide a great sin!

And Let us remember that once conscious, mankind was in tragedy,
but through comedy, we found our remedy.

Rest in Pieces,
For I swear to Jesus, I can hear your laugh at "Pieces".
Aug 2014 · 1.4k
My Middle East
My Middle East is torn
Divided into sects and stones
Desert full of rage
Ancient cities bearing witness to atrocities
In the name of the merciful
Let the killing begin
Seek justice in an afterlife
For God is deaf

Ceasefire!
long enough to bury her face
Under the classroom's desk
Or onto her dead mother's chest
Nameless casualties in numbers
Gaze at the brilliant night sky
Rain of shells, rekindling the dark-ages
No truce is left
For God is deaf

The Father carried his young one
A lifeless log returned to earth
Faith unshaken among shouts and prayers
Let the words avenge you
Curse the creator in whispers
And spiral not into an uncharted nihilistic ground
Fuel your hate
For God is deaf

Commemorate the dead
With roses on their heads
Or with poems on their gravestones instead
Morality embedded in poetry, blood is shed
Humanity on trial
Blame not my words
For God is deaf
And in my Middle East
He remains,
Undead.
To all the innocent lives lost, I apologize for my helplessness.
Jun 2014 · 1.4k
Sweden
Rest your body
in this cemetery
And in my backpack
You’ll find your soul

One arm on the damp grass
Close your eyes
breathe in the harsh air
Cough
Cigarettes are to blame

Blank tombstones and timeless graves
Carve our names in cursive
Drink in their honor
Rest your head on a tree trunk
Sleep now
A peaceful death

Awoken by the morning mourners
Frozen tears, frozen trees
Stockholm, have we not shivered enough?
Inhale
Heaven on earth
Exhale
Heavenly warmth

Afternoon strolls
The dead crawls
knees dancing
Let’s find shelter
A permanent home
Let’s dig a hole
Jun 2014 · 8.6k
Sentiments
I find comfort in the news
Be it typhoons or drones
I feel like a 100 year old Camus
For he was a miserable little raccoon
Or should I say Morrissey?
But the bipolar king is lost at sea!
I think of Sylvia Plath and her oven
Incinerated in a jar or in a coffin?

I will mention roses in a second
But first, wear your veil
May I eat your cheeks?
I’m your psychopath with style

We bathed in herbs together
The pale ******* that shone
A reoccurring dream of two moons
I believe in reincarnation
bosoms, as the lunar eyes of an owl

Stars, rain, coffee, cigarettes and music
Few clichés, I forgot about your roses
One day I’ll strike the balance
between rhymes and passion
Jun 2014 · 895
Childhood
Memories of childhood, reminisce of pet-like life
Time unborn, devoted to cartoons and toys
Tiny lives filled with little joys

Little fingers drew the future, coloring all sorts of objects
painting white walls
Our masterpieces
punishment
And then, tears

We mouthed storytellers
Innocence was not of choice
Questionable belief in soothsayers
“Music is forbidden!” They shouted
But our jumpy feet touched and danced
We moved in circles
Incoherent dance
tiny lives filled with little joys

Careless giggles at the cautious tales of heaven and earth
Death was a mean man in a black robe
We were fearless in the face of mystery
Little wanderers armed by the Whys and Hows

But dear, little did we know

That death is the lingering shadow weighing on the edge of our beds

That afterlife is a haunting nightmare

That morals are the sleep paralysis of chaotic choices

“Childhood is the only known heaven!”, we asserted
So we became fitful sleepers
Actively protesting the killings of children
With our toy-like, light beaming devices

Such despairing hope
We search for little joys
Now we feel older than we should
A cause for misery
Trapped in a ruinous decay
Trying to remain joyous
Because we merely remain
I believe depriving children from a happy childhood is just about the worst thing we've ever done as a specie.
Jun 2014 · 632
Stay
The letters are aligned for you; stay
Drumming force of an army, and thousands of soldiers yet to come
Sleep, come my way

I dread the night and the brainwork that trails
Dark heartfelt burn by each passing day
Destined to lonely confinement
Contained
Cared for and then disdained

“Beware! despairing hope, the birth of a thought!”
Full moon, pale old rock, no cause for delight
a shimmering light that of silver, soldiers at the gates!
I descended, opened the gates
now stay

O the heart, heart knows no retreat
Misplaced, has it not been the case?
Prisoned in a dying body; a cave
Sentenced to expectancies; decay

Undead
occupied at last, toasting red wine
“Never been more alive” a lie
Cure the heart with reason
revolt! shake off this helplessness
all I see is the science behind beauty and her forgetful nature
I remembered the nameless shadows they were once close at bay; treason

And he, the lingering shadow of doubt, romanticized pain. an addiction, lack of shame

While she, cloud-footed and unaware, left to become a nameless ghost
Jun 2014 · 2.4k
Debt
Have I got no future, no friends
Caring when others run in fright
I would’ve jumped from a great height
To relieve this body from its debt

Have I got no siblings, no father
Crying in blood and tears
I would’ve pushed the soul to its limit
Near death and out of body experience
To relieve this soul from its debt

Have I got no mother, no lover
Caring with folded hearts
I would’ve revolted on my beliefs
With the same words I’ve been taught
To relieve this mind from its debt

But no courage could be found
To cure the mind’s actions and commands
To risk nothing for the sake of nothing
To find a debtless land
Jun 2014 · 5.2k
Tuesday
“Each broken promise is a blackout star” said he
“The light goes on” said she
“Too many, too close, to who?” Thought he

Tuesday came unannounced and declared its importance
ushering hours, sweeping boredom
Tuesday left unnoticed

“Letter by letter, what good your words have done?” said she
“I lie to protect, to protect from sheer ignorance” said he
“Acceptance, For the highest bidder!” said she

O Foster child of infinite dreams
The mind shivers
This is water, and that’s a stream
Certainty, but up to a degree

“Dictate the mind, and the heart will flee” said he
“I reside in paintings and leave hints in old ink” said she
“Seek shelter at the nearest heart” thought he

the rhymes dwell,
between two red cheeks
And the name is spelled
so the face can melt

— The End —