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Sep 2017 · 636
A Seed
Jad Ghamloush Sep 2017
I drink this cup of water
For maybe if I quench my thirst
The dry hole in my chest might grow whole again
They say if you pour water to a planted seed
Life will sprout out of it
But human flesh
No matter how wet
Is no place to sustain life
The seed in me has never been so dead before

The world is filled with seeds
All shapes, size and colors
I want to be like the ripe ones
Where their prosaic is pleasure, and breathing is bliss
I want to be like the other trees around me
Tall, green, powerful, and safe
Bless this pure heart of mine for thinking it was possible to find life after death
Like a tree when its branches are cut in the dead winter
Like a tree that rises from its crisp brown death in the lively spring

Mother Nature, why are we not strong like trees?
Why do we not possess the power to regrow our branches when it comes for us?
Even my hair turns brown and dead
And falls like leaves of autumn trees
Yet unlike autumn trees
I don't grow back what was lost
Even when they snap my heart into pieces
All that will be on the floor is pieces
No part will become new again

Mother Nature, why do you lie to me?
Why do you tell me that I am part of your divine when in truth I am wretched?
Maybe that's why humans are so adamant about taking you apart
Mixing and blending your parts
Into little pieces of profit
Into little pieces of power
Our selfish revenge is inexcusable
We know but our horrible judgement is what makes us human

I cried over this dry hole
My tears are insufficient
The seed remains dead
And we remain malicious
Revive the seeds.
Sep 2017 · 685
Home of the Dead
Jad Ghamloush Sep 2017
Every week they gather around in a dark room
Where sounds are the rulers of body movement
Music becomes the puppeteer that aims to abolish silence
Prophecies of love and lust spread across the floor
The veins of the room are shaken by harmonies
Sight is overworked to the point where it no longer works
Light beams run wild, and spotlights bring shadows to centerstage
This busy room is where the dead are born again

But when we want to talk about the dead
Who said anything about coffins and carcasses
Anyone becomes dead when they have lived too much
Like this lady in the corner sipping on her drink
She wears her lips like blood on a battlefield
Her body is raised like she's tipping over the edge
Her skirt hugs her like an old lover
She laughs loudly like she’s ready to cry
Her tears fall directly from the cracks of her broken heart

Another is a boy drinking his youth away
And drinking away all his clean shirts and pants
His eyes wander and surf through the sea of people
Around him are others who drink like him
Others who want to forget
He gulps down each red cup he can get his hands on
He waits for the alcohol to go straight into his brain
Like polish remover, erases the traces of heavy hands
And sharp words that hurt him every time he breathes

For some, this busy room can be home for a few hours
Because home is where life is not allowed
Life does not interfere with our safe space
We come to this room with our dead hearts
Hoping a drink or a song would jumpstart it back to life
We hope the beats bring back the beats in our chests
We hope it brings back the warmth in our skin
For this is the room where the dead are born again
To those who like a party.
May 2017 · 979
The Temple
Jad Ghamloush May 2017
A history of the world is written on the softness of your lips
I can taste the age of your soul
Cultures and civilizations run deep in your blood
Your tears are those of loved ones as they lose a loved one in battle
Your laugh echoes in the halls of Olympus
When the gods hear it, they freeze
These gods are nothing under the pressure of your thumb

Your hair stands like a temple
Pillars and pillars sprout from your scalp
They whisper the secrets of the holy men that prayed for safety
As I did
It was my temple too
Alas beliefs change and evolve
The temple became deserted leaving me under the mercy of its toppling roof
All that remained of you is a ruin
These gorgeous pillars perished into rubble
Your ground was never this dusty
I tried to move your temple to my safehouse
But the demons that live there will not leave you at peace
They will take your temple and tear it down
Even the ruin is too dangerous to keep
"It must break" they say
And I can't tell if they're talking about a pillar or my heart

Bless your innocent soul for thinking I was someone worthy of you
Bless my naive heart for believing that I could guard your temple
But not only my demons, your demons were the enemy too
Both armies joined forces
Weaponry and machinery never used before in the battlefield
And all we had was a rope
The enemy tied the rope around us
Froze our eyes open
As we watched the temple kneel on its knees
Feb 2017 · 621
The Guardian and the Sea
Jad Ghamloush Feb 2017
I hiked to the peak of a mountain.
Where I saw the salty sea,
Glorious with clear water,
And you were its guardian.
Your eyes pierced into mine.
You saw into my heart and knew I meant no harm.
I was only thirsty from my hike.
So, you held my hand firmly, led me to your heart,
And I bathed.
The water consumed my sorrows.
It seeped into my skin,
Into every pore.
I was reborn,

Until the moment I died again.
Two heavy palms smashed into my shoulders,
And pushed me underwater.
Your poker face could not be broken.
Your grip was strong as steel.
I fought until my body gave up,
And my lungs screamed.

The sand burned my back as air filled my chest again,
And I saw your poker face, broken.
It reminded me of a child's
So full of pain,
After breaking his favorite doll,
And his father breaking him for playing with dolls.
Then I felt the water brush me once more,
And my lungs screamed again.
It escaped my mouth,
But you put your index finger on my lips and hushed me.
You used no words; you only hushed me.
Silence won over.
This time,
You cleansed my skin with the water that once tarnished me.
You healed my wounds, and kissed my forehead.
You were now my guardian,
As I floated with life again.

But will you keep me afloat next time I wanted a drink?
Feb 2017 · 389
This New Dawn Of Mine
Jad Ghamloush Feb 2017
The night is gone
The sun glows in the stretched blue sky
The rays swallowing the stars feeding on their energy
The clouds take leaps of faith into new hopes
The air aromatized by the flower buds waking up to a new day

Dawn paints a smile on my face
Because I took the night on
Faced the moon with a pen
Turning emotions and experience
Into secrets worded into art
Turning art into a sword

This new dawn of mine is my medal
I wear it on my sleeve
Right next to my heart
Which now beats proudly
Scarred and cracked as it may be
It never broke
I wish I could say the same about my mind
When my mind broke
All the sunshine seeped away
The moon had swept up his prize
And claimed his throne as king of the sky
Thus marking the start of his ruthless reign
His soldiers of stars and darkness
Crept into my life
My broken mind made love to them all
And when I wasn't looking, they completed their mission
With my sword in one hand, I reinforced my heart
And stepped into the battlefield
Only to come out a king myself

This window ushers a light into my room
Illuminating my wall
The heads of my enemies are portraits of my victory
I now drink their blood as the wine of survivors
As I watch this new dawn of mine celebrate eternally
Feb 2017 · 6.3k
Men Don't Cry
Jad Ghamloush Feb 2017
If you could open up every man in the world
You'd find that they've been popping pills their entire lives
Yet no one ever thought of an intervention
These pills are capsules of clear salty water
That drown their hearts, killing off every emotion
They are not allowed to wet their cheeks
Because according to the myth, male tears shrink penises

Men do not cry; they bleed inwards
Their blood is stained with all their fears and pains
But they do not feel anything
They are men, and men don't feel
Men don't hurt; men only exist
But how do they breathe with all that water in their lungs?
When they exhale, their breath carries little drops of water out
They are round, soft, and pleading for help
"Let us out! We can't breathe! It's too dark in here,"
For the heart is the light of the human soul
Drown it and everything shuts down

Crying is not just tears streaming down your face
Crying is establishing a connection with yourself
It is an acceptance of pain
And acceptance is the first step to move forward
When you cry, your barren eyes are washed and cleaned
Drying out the well inside your chest
Letting your heart breathe
Letting your body rest
Letting your soul shine

Men are oceans of salt and pain
When the only thing they need to be is human

— The End —