HANDWRITTEN WORDS OF A MISGUIDED WOMAN

HANDWRITTEN WORDS OF A MISGUIDED WOMAN

Ayad Gharbawi

February 1, 1989 – Cambridge, Mass., Boston, USA.

A silence dictates

Its hopes essential

That thirst in their intertwined

Hatreds for the

Struggle to breathe

The crowds staggered in their plodding

The howls turned nowhere

Even though they themselves

Really felt that their words

Had so many depths

But at least some flocks did hear these sounds

There was some heat generated

I say I heard roses

Crying gases inert

Their real feelings were soon discoloured

Did you ever understand

The ways and means

Of people?

I heard of clowns dying by suffocating themselves

Quietly

Didn’t they at least

Entertain themselves?

I saw humbled and determined gatherings

Of angry frustrated citizens

But they soon were to hear

The words

Of misunderstood monks

Who finally produced a smile

But their words

Did ramble on and endlessly on

And the winds of their spirits

Were far too directionless

To be of any meaning

Then I saw Hurt

I saw engines crying

They spoke meaningless melodies to me

And I did try to guess

But I screamed

“You engines!” I screamed

“You can never sing, you maniacs!”

My brain

I felt was losing

Its functions

I wasn’t too sure of what functions they were supposed

To do actually

Did you know what those functions

Were supposed to do?

I was not walking straight

And I knew it

Tell me of your cooking

I’ve been hungry for too long

You see

Or, you may see

It’s been too long

And your language destroyed me here

My appetite was killed as well

And your subtle hatreds

Yes, I remembered them all

And I will repay you real for real

What you gave me

I shall give back to you

While a hopeful clown

He

And she

Entertained and spoke in dialects misunderstood

I swear

I even saw smoke

Emanating from your breaths

That gunned me down

Down to my protecting ribs

I never have ever

Seen hatred like this

I confess to you

The units of my poetry have gone mad

And my sense of geometry

Have turned ridiculous

No, I agree

I never hated as much as you did

But I am catching up fast with you all

Jesus

I never guessed

What predicaments Man can debase himself into

And then again

I never realized

What a lowly depth, I too could be forced into

I was stunned

I cried

My name is ‘Ayad’

I thought that was enough

To convince criminals of my innocence

I was not misunderstood

That was incorrect

I was actually understood, quite well

Truth was

Nobody wanted to feel my truth

The speed of life

And human interactions and conversations

Easily bewildered me

And misguided me

I was tempted by the flowers of literature

I was tempted

When I saw independent women

Laughing joyously

I believed

There can exist a time

When loving can exist

In its sheltered solitude

Wherein there exist no indignities

Imagine

That your father

Is never berated

Imagine your mother

Is never to be shouted at

But then

The skies did change their colours

And meanings changed

And with the change of meanings

Intentions did change

Unto whom did the skies turn to?

And where did all the meanings of

Of every philosophy become?

Unto whom did they turn to?

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