Calm, scary nights shine above my head
Sealing the world from pains of the dead
Whispering breaths among shadows in bed
Keeping secrets of past stories once read

Far, floating rocks haunt my sight with mild fright
Echoing my heartbeats through a lost flight
Pondering as to where would be the next site
Fading beyond horizons of the light

Dark, wavy clouds shed mournful tears of rain
Watering grounds that shall be grown with grain
Sheltering ponds and lakes on every plain
Weeping over graves that growl with disdain

Loud, rumbling thunder shake minds of those pure
Threatening torment that one can endure
Arousing tragic moments so obscure
Confusing ears with roars quite insecure

Sweet, tender, kind, and caring they all say
Words soft as these bring one’s heartbeats to play

The shying secrets told in the late night
Vanish as the morning light comes in tight

Love and good-will are no rules of a game
But much like a newborn tied to a name

When tragic moments arise to a stage
A warm hand moves out through bars of a cage

Loyalty deeply rooted in the minds
Relieves the soul from torments that it finds

The rooms witness periods of utmost joy
That conquer a land much like that of Troy





                      NHH                              ­        "Plume"

My life hastily ended
With the last speck of hope mended
Echoing through the hollows of breezes
Trepidations, laughter, cries that freezes

Years of swift age agonized
An aching soul forever hypnotized
Blowing off its chilled wings
Memories, endings, hints down a string

Days of timid youth crumbled
As a mindful ambition tumbled
Whispering across sorrowful times
Risks, ventures, odds of tragic rhymes

Moments of blasting scenes waved
To a stage rendered enslaved
Capturing in the obscure air
Melodies, voices, roars for me to wear

In memory of an unmemorable 4th of August
On a once calm, but malicious day of 2020
Eyes were blinded by unforgivable eruptions
That stormed its rage alongshore Beirut
Banging down the mightiest of towers
Too overwhelming to be recognizably real
Too agonizing to be tolerably sensible
All witness bodies of wandering souls
Of victims heaped beneath breathless rubble
Of dust streams escaping through mindless erections

In memory of an aching 4th of August
From an unknown hour, as an alarming clock strikes six-o-eight
Ears were deafened by voiceless sobs
Of too many people chained in abominable wounds
Echoing thunders through audacious streets
Such a calamity we had to endure
Such a misery we are destined to co-opt
Each would rise again in delirium
In fervor for a melodrama
In search for the shielded guilty

In memory of a treacherous 4th of August
After a long-lost year in mourning distress
Six-o-eight is vividly reborn when
Hand-in-hand all stand upright
Weak but willful for a cause
Tormented yet woven in hope
To walk the walls of beloved Beirut
To carry up high its bleeding flags
To soothe spoken words of a sorrowful mother
“Death is my hope that shall take me to my son”

In memory of a promising 4th of August
The six-o-eight shall ring its bell
And scream “Hail down to the defendants!”


           NHH                                                              ­     "Plume"

Nightfall crawls up
Nightfall crawls down
Resting stars thrilled
With liquids spilled
Shading rocks haste
To savor waste

Nightfall crawls up
Nightfall crawls down
Hot comets shamed
Of garbage flamed
Whirling holes tear
To rain off smear

Nightfall crawls up
Nightfall crawls down
Hanging sun spoiled
By gases boiled
Cold moon revolves
To clean dissolves


                                          NHH        ­              "Plume"

Captured by the sight of spring bees
I look beyond the bark of trees
And get a glimpse of frozen seas

I escape myself from disease
And fly away in pairs or threes
Over heads of those dressed for skis

Plains, plateaus locked up with mild keys
Look up towards me with deep pleas
Hovering with wild, odd wheeze

Skies in grey color with rupees
****** my wings or so to appease
Clutching feathers bent with unease

Amidst a trip meant to displease
My body shoves into the breeze
Softly down as if with bent knees



                                    NHH                         "Plume"

An easy recipe for you and me
1, 2 and 3 steps is all it takes

Chopped nuts of first degree
Spread amidst the moist bakes

Chewy…fudgie…is the key
To making the stomach aches

NHH                   "Plume"

To many, they are sweet surrenders
To some, eruptions from boiling wonders

What have we to taste but crunchy doughs
Fried hot as each dives in and flows

One by one they float above sugary sap
Dipped and glazed with cheers and a clap

A name for lokaimat and a cry for bites
Sweet ***** is worth the delights

          NHH                                          ­"Plume"

Boredom ringing
The beats of singing

Louder than ever
Into ears made clever

Boredom clapping
The drums of napping

Milder than before
Across views blown ashore

Boredom rocking
The tones of knocking

Swifter than today
Between stirs wiped astray



                        NHH                            ­         "Plume"

I am made to sit still
Against the back of my will

I am tied to a floor
With rags it once wore

I am dressed limbs to chest
Upon which all can rest

I am kept with bare ends
That still serve their errands

I am blind but can see
All that they wish of me

I am deaf but can hear
Cries…laughter in my ear

Books and I both do share
Matter to be dealt with care

I am wordless they say
But worth books if they pay

I am…insensitive?
Yet warmth is all I give

December 1, 2011                                                             NHH ("Plume")

You glare at me
With eyes that won’t see
The deep meanings not yet set free

I look to the inside of you
A stranger whose time is due
Lost and wild in one’s own view

Frowns, smiles, and tears flow
Like ****** stemming underneath the snow
But you keep steady, yet tired and slow

“Halt now,” I dare speak out
My words to you are of no sprout
Your own make no sound even in a shout

I long for that some one
Whose praise of life is still undone
Whose long waits turn boredom into fun

I stare back to break the bond
Unleash the tie…I am no fond
I claim back the ripples of my pond

                          NHH                                            "Plume"

Lost amidst a hundreds of me
I squeeze myself for me to see
Plains, mountains, waters of the sea
Gaze up and wonder, “Why not free”
I hush back at them “Let me be”

Loud winds tickle me with shivers
Alike the sight of mad rivers
I keep tight of fear I slither
To a land that has no giver
I cry out “I shall not wither”

Glued aside by rebuking rain
My once beholder claims in pain
The need to set loose its dense stain
“I served thee…” I longed to complain…
“…Cold and wet,” yet all lost in vain

Here I’m blown by wondrous echoes
So swift to a place so hollow
Across vast reefs and wild meadows
To hide is to keep me shallow
I rise again “Hear my sorrow”

    NHH                  "Plume"

I can be a man’s friend
Quite close in the end

I can be a man’s foe
As the words written grow

Hand in hand, we march fro
Much like winds that blow

Man and I both agree
To have faith, to be free

Man thinks & I release
Thoughts on a source from trees

                    NHH                                   ­            "Plume"

Xmas is heavily approaching…
With sounds of birds chirping and crying—

The mild mists of a turbulent year
Pronouncing breaths of shivering flocks
Deepening their call for an escape
Relieving their need to disappear
Echoing cries for reunion
All but for…and yet over again

Xmas is heavily approaching…
With flutter of birds loudly singing—

The howling winds of sizzling skies
Announcing tremors of flopping wings
Seasoning their paths for a drive way
Receiving their comfort to revive
Bellowing their grudge for surrender
All but for…and yet over again

Xmas is heavily approaching…
With colors of birds painting the air

The daunting leaves of miserable trees
Denouncing footprints of crawling beasts
Threatening woos of tiresome deer
Following a long-lost sacred path
Believing their quest for shelter
All but for…and yet over again



                                     NHH               "Plume"