Tuesday, August 1, 2023



Let me dress your dream

like a timid meteor ray,

And we fall into the abyss of encounter

Then the melodies are missed

For the secrets of a washed cloud

Under the cloak of the fleeing night

Glitter flowers are encircled

The waves of your ostentatious eyes

Without a homeland in the support of the wind

We are loaded on boards

We call out the ports of reassurance.

A melted pulse with the genie of legends

It was topped with a heavy, worn canvas

With the worries of the pierced suspicions

The more life stripped her shoulders

He loved her hard.

And eternity never gets tired of its misery

Despite the poison and her walk

over thorns..

Tears raise the shadow of absence

He gifted her a cascade of hatred

Pray the pleasure prayer

Let the qualities of heaven embrace our innocence

And water the river of sorrows

The misery of our fainted kneeling

Like the constant rain of tenderness

And your stray spectrum does not sing to my hearing

Throws embers that sting the body

It makes me sigh...

Without blame in my estrangement

And bare the lines in pale cities

It makes me sound like a liver without a liver..!


Moaning Light


In this dead moment, I deposit the features of the hidden light, which draws my destiny over the cracks of lost walls, whose shells were created from the thick blackness of smoke, as he runs after the battlefield of his last days, before pulling his departure from the tongue of a white fuse that I embraced for days and months, and his heartbeat shrank after he was engulfed in a chaos of dust. Condemned overnight, and how can I not hear the grunts of farewell while you dry up the light of my groaning, and I humiliated myself from vein to vein...

And I borrow my five senses from calamities, the coffin of my limbs floats above the pyre of duality, and the dark whispers were the last point of convergence, between the flabby waves of my life scattered under the ashes of the hearth of the seducer, and the hallucinations of an exposed tomorrow...

Perhaps those icy evenings seduced me, and led me on its remote journey like a thorn that the wind had torn from its roots, and it rolled like a snowball, but it did not grow larger, rather it got smaller until it became a prey to the tip of a small needle that he pulled from the fingertips of the farmer before the harvest began.


Confession... (9)


(Habat Al-Maturidia).


My mind is in the end

Those days were taken away

….................. From us a lifetime?

And you kept the love of the Maturidis

…............ reeling over

stubbornness rock…...

Oh how I tried to get there

For the bitterness of your beaches absent from me

And I hear the sound of my pain for your frightened seagulls

Of the ghosts did not leave those

The ship that overturned its sails

Enough with the bitterness of life

Everything.. stops

It’s on one leg

Even corals

You are obsessed with the salt of our legend

When we speak in sign language

Traffic is disrupted according to whims

The coming waves up and down

She did not come to the farm.

Rather, she mocked the silence of the rocks

Almtlajih on all four sides

They shiver under the blazing sun

Blazing and smiling seagulls

Her last twinkle…



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