Shattered

For hours at a time, he stood there,

alone, with his thoughts, away from

all the commotion of a messed up world.

This was it, his shelter, his second home,

the only place he felt he could belong.

In the overall serenity of the place, he felt

safe. Safe to wander, safe to think, safe

to linger freely, away from harmful eyes.

On the outside, he seemed out of place

but inside he was at one with it;

two souls, united as if by the act of fate.

And as he cleared his mind into hopeful meditation,

he could hear it, the soft sound of a soaring bird,

its wings beating endlessly across the dreamy sky.

He felt at ease, as if hypnotized by drips of mellow

honey, making their way progressively down

his throat, awakening all of his senses.

And for a moment, he just gazed

out into the soothing nothingness of the void.

And there it was, right in front of him,

a machine in the midst of a perfect world.

And as it unmercifully clicked, it took away

the only thing he had left: a dream, flying

away, like a piece of silk in a merciless storm.

The Fool

'Tis a shiny spring day on the peak with the sun
White snow-covered mountains in the distant background
Newly-blossomed flowers releasing their pollen
Our happy fool picks one: a delicate white rose
Marianne shall receive it, but wait
Is it too good to be true? Should we
Be dancing? And should we be singing?
But this is my best dress and feather
So soft they are, like you Marianne
The picnic so lovingly prepared
And its taste strong but oh so unique
Just like you Marianne. Come let me
Hold you, caress you. Just breathe with me
I'm growing impatient by the minute
My parents you should be meeting soon
With you Marianne oh faithful dog
They'll be sure their son is not gay.

The Moon

Different colors, curves and shades
Resembling earth in various ways
The sky is blue and the moon should be white
It looks yellow, but even though still bright
A spider trying to hold on to the center of the moon
But somehow a moment will pass by and will fall soon
It reminds me of the desert where it’s all full of sand
Where no human being can stand
Wolves in human bodies
Trying to own what’s not theirs
Looking brave and strong
Well…. this is not fair
Earth will always be round
And these animals will only be a surround

Zeinab Afara

Picture

Inventing the 1930's
Smooth and timeless
True in its strackness
Not mystical truths, but real ones
Like listening to a phonograph through an ear horn
And hearing the familar but rough transition from the past
Like a familiar sweater with pebbles in it

The thrill of creation

Capturing a moment of one foot in the past and the other in the future
Sparse and savory like a bowl of fool
A crack in the debris of Time
A snapshot
Taken with agricultural (horticultural) neatness
Not a crooked frame-listless or cramped
But a Memento
Of an intrepet and inventive Age.

True in its starkness
Like the feel of a pair of old workman's gloves
A sprawling antique of 1930's Lebanon