Blazing the pain
Waiting for the rain
Danger lies inside
Weird scenes in my mind

Burning desires in my brain
Riding the lysergic train
In the dark stuck in a maze
Wild girls lost in the haze

Children of the light
Waiting for the sun

Sweet child is born

The child is the dawn


Memories fade away
Strange land
Summer dance
Amnesia
Lucid dreams
Unicorns
Nirvana

We Are All Insane



Words Of Harfouchism

That was my smile.
A little uneven, a lot of perfect.
That was mine. And you gave it to her.
**You really ought to stop giving away my things.

I went to the dentist -
reluctantly, definitely -
and I closed my eyes and
I felt metal against my teeth
as the dentist probed my mouth
and then I heard his words:
"Oh what a deep cavity...
Deep cavity...
Deep cavity"

And I said timidly:
"Come on, doctor...you needn't repeat
those words - I'm frightened enough
just coming here"

"I wasn't repeating,"
said the dentist
precise  in his words
*"Those were echoes you heard"

so I brought my writer wife
(prominently pregnant)
to the hospital
and on her bed, she screamed:
"weren't" "hasn't" "couldn't" "shan't"
"aint" "hadn't" "you're" "isn't"
"aren't" "didn't" "wasn't"
"who's?" "what's?" "he's" "she's"

The doctors were confounded
and they turned to me and they said:
"What the hell is she doing?"

And I replied with double speed
and a violent sense of urgency:
*"Don't you know?
She's having contractions -
she's a writer"

There are stories in your eyes.

I never told you how
sometimes I fell asleep
with the thought that you
were perhaps the moon-

always disappearing
with the dawn.