Oh! Woe to the poor captivated lover
Being trapped in love, but beloved gone

Oh! The moment I'm sitting as tulip alone
In my heart's blood, she is gone as wind

The voice of ax didn't come from Bistoon
Shireen is gone to Farhad's dream tonight

Oh! I will inform you of my painful alas
The day my enormous patience finally gone

Pity lover that flew your grapevine hair
With a hundred hopes come, gone unhappy

I am happy you abandoned all my rivals
Although, you left me as fistful of soil to wind

Mountains and deserts are mournful tonight
Lovers as Majnoon and Farhad gone forever

The Smuggler’s Angel
(Ser Davos and Shireen)

too much ice
on weary bones
in your heart

a fortress, guarded
what flowed within
was silent, deep

empty rooms
cobwebbed, grey
and full of dust

till innocence
disarmed you
unexpectedly

with a smile like
healing balm
that found you

in distant lands
found the light
in you, buried

trust opening
out like a rose
petal by petal

beyond all scars
visible, invisible
a home at last

for your spirit
bruised and grey
this not yet flower

almost butterfly
untouched by spring
your snowflake girl

ethereal, a feather
blown away, purity
melted, vanilla skin

reduced to ashes
night rain falling
behind your eyes.

you carry her
in your heart
love’s memory

indestructible
made of wood
a titanium star

Samer & Shireen


a camera’s not a gun

    it has no bullets

  a pen is not a rifle

    it has no sights

  a war is not a pun

    it’s full of zealots

those who try to stifle

  and take our rights.

.          

        I found this pen and a
        fully loaded cartridge
        by her side and I am
        wondering what it was
        she intended to write.

        The ink’s blood red as
        you notice, not a ball
        point either, it is a real,
        nibbed hemophiliac, I’d
        say she knew too much.


For

Shireen Abu Akleh