(Monday morning, on the roof of an Oslo construction site.)

~

Seagull. Filthy peace flag screaming
His own name upon the city.

It is I! Eater of scraps, leaver of
Droppings!

Sword beak, dagger tallons!
Anti-raven! White blood cell of

Your airborne bloodstream.
The skies would be half a chess

Board in my absence!
I sit on the rooftop drinking water,

Listening to him echo between
Tired buildings.

Norwegian city morning.
Sunny and cold.

I watch the red of mist muffled light
On his wings as he soares towards

The bay for his fifth breakfast.
Today will be an interesting day,

I whisper to my soul as I empty the
Bottle and stand up.

A conductor tapping his baton against
His note stand, raising hands and an

Eyebrow to the orchestra.
Get your Monday in tune, and the week

Will follow accordingly.
Seagull. Filthy peace flag.

Declaring himself victorious
With his every forceless breath.

~

~
The death of that innocent child
Changes the map of consciences, not of the world
Again proved that our education is wrong
The religion of the people turns to transgressions

When blood stained in the sky
Our love has become non-existence
Teaches me to think of another new war!
For the New Earth a habitable
~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

you may not know me
face to face,
but you and I have connected
heart to heart through words.

Our lives are woven together by
the tapestry of words,
and into a living breathing poetry.

you and I are no longer strangers,
but fellow poets and sojourners
on this journey of creation.