Friday, December 1, 2023



My Cup Of Isolation..


My table feet tripped

with my empty cup,

when she saw..

Your longing is played above

the sharpness of my memory,

And nostalgia tells the nostalgic of his sins.

How do I guarantee my innocence?

The more you erase the time of oppression

in front of the wretched..

The oracle slanders me in its entirety

You are defeated, my son.

You will not drink from the mirage

Other than thirst!

And that car backed up

with the thorns of a floating river,

You don't have a girlfriend anymore.


Spare Me My Isolation...


I rejoice in your unique birth, which cut the connections of traffic lights so as not to turn to the right, so I took the left as the course of life, and breathed into its precious pulse, because I know very well what Caesar is for Caesar, and a quarter of the crumbs for the orphans of my village buried under tutelage, and the pet in my story is that I am oriental in passion, and my desires are not equal Except in steam pots made by the West, so whoever reads to God, there is no escape in the morning newspaper and its stormy features, and I brush you between the eyelashes of women with lust soaked in the space of blackness, when the gardens of death open with smiles immersed in the gaps of the Lord, so there are no guards indicating the flash of dawn there, after the meteorites plucked their wings Certainty, I turned into a monk kissing the water and revolting with its glory to complete the way back, checking my adventurous fingers in the intrigues of the memory of the traumas, and forgetting the luminous spikes among the humps, then the hunger of the lips asks me about the loaf of your fairy, there is no shadow that shelters me other than the disappointments of the windmills entrenched behind my calls, and the boats of pierced dreams On the shores of life, the palms of ashes play with it in the veins of grief, so I was not able to please the grave digger, so that his bleeding sword would draw dignity, and the harshness of the taste of the bitterness of treachery of time, so if this delirium is madness among the major sins, then stone me with a hug that has no longing..


Isolation Of The Wind


I swallow the blush

among the pine trees

Absence of tendon hum

The color of the cheek of the sky is blue

As if the sweetness of the lips

She sucks what's in the vein

So he started playing on the wind..!

And he appeases that alienation that

Joints inhabited the city

After her departure paralyzed her..

Even the wooden waterwheels

groaning from the absence of the giggles of the water

The handicapped and his usual running

I danced it in the drivers..

loosen the feather between your fingertips

wave your yellow handkerchief

The shores are no longer loaded

The chatter of your drunken waves

To calm his autumn pulses..

with those eyes that swept over her

Withering armies with their raids

The strings of visions were severed

With black eyeliner, the worries of the night

And its arid areas

When your solo calls me..!

To decode the talismans of the buttons

Al-Asiyya Behind the Dunes of Rebellion




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