Dubai has reared herself a throne,
In a strange city lying alone,
Far down within the Middle East,
Where the rich and humble consume and feast,
Their shrines and palaces and towers,
Resemble nothing that is ours,
Around, by dunes and winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the desert sky,
The melancholy waters lie.

Ang wikang nanlaban,
ay ang wikang nanatili.
Ang wikang di nag-atubili,
ay ang wikang nagwagi.
Ang wika ng mga matatapang,
ay ang wikang di maaagawan.
Ang wikang awitin ng araw
at ang wikang tula ng buwan.
Ang wikang harana ng habagat
at ang wikang isinulat ng dagat.
Ang wikang ibinaybay ng alon
at ang wikang di aanurin ng baybay.
Ang wikang sinambit ng mga ninuno
na kailanman ay di mamamatay.
Ang wikang ginamit ng mga bayani
na habambuhay nang mamamalagi.
Ang wikang matapang,
ang wika ko magpasawalang-hanggan.

Oh, is the sweet and delicate embrace; such a tight
and warm hug, but it had smashed my bouquet of flowers.
I picked you out of the bunch; I wandered down a forest trail
brushing with death- a kiss by her lips. And around me, was the
sight of your experienced skins; carpeted with yellow leaves, blessed
by the caressing sun. The cool of your eyes- is a walk by the lagoon,
your warm bud of tears falls into my eyes, and swell it up, to bloom.
The Sun rules over our lives, that Moon quietly covers our pain with
those nights of laughter; the canopy of our dreams, quietly fall away
as like the leaves. My tongue bares roots, and my words do try to promise
flowers- with every saturated thought, shaped out as petals opened wide.
The first time I saw it, I was entirely unaware of what waited below my lows.

To— step out of myself, was the place our story had begun. And to this,
each tree I see around me, reminds me of you- the first tree I as a child,
were brave enough to climb.

To have this ability
                to use these words
Brain's thoughts glued to paper like chords

I can only imagine
                deep in the past
Ancient men glued to their own heads

I am free to articulate
                Say it, even scream
Better do it silently others can understand me

To hear you speak
                to hear your soul
Delights my heart with a ravenous howl

Some may say law
                 Medicine, even football
Though I say language's the best invention of all.

~
Who can circumnavigate Avalon's depository and the palpable swoop down toward earthier terrain?

Yet, here I am.

Where is your gravity taking me, Kahn?

This building is an invitation, and I am humbled in this sense of arrival. The books are stored away from the light. So a man with a book goes to the light, the serenity of light.

And therein lies the hidden meaning.

But you won't let it become just a building; you want it to remain much a ruin; it's all somehow sinister in its celebration.

Occasional distraction is as important in reading as concentration.

And I'm reading between the lines in a corner carrel, looking out at academic crop circles; I grapple with each texture: it's this combination of imposing austerity and weathered familiarity that you seize upon to make your current landscape hospitable.

This building is an instrument, creates a sound in my head akin to music; and this music remains a glowing source of solitude, all driven by a desire to be hidden but sought after—a celebration of all things lost and unnamed.

Here I find closure by opening a book.
~