AHMED F. BAIDOON

 

A Staggering Momentum

 

Behold myself – a hermit tucked away,

In the envelope of a languishing cloud,

My bygone plethora of prospects never come what may,

Alas! my panacea is nothing but talking aloud,

Whereabouts are nothing but a doddering whim,

Syllogism, let-alone that setback,

Wandering through my daffodils over the globe rim,

Picking out those roses with elixir stack,

What a mess!

Who of us might tell me about the aromatic scent?

The fusillade of rain forays tinged with a contagious distress,

The nature burst in tears, thus no more time to repent,

And, all that trigger an alert,

What if we never tarnish the image!

What if we save our crying Earth!

What if we embark on truthful bonafide!

What if we berth an anchoring pillar of piety and austerity!

In the altar of my fantasy dynasty, I laid down my if only,

Between the celestial filaments, I instilled my pains,

Under the full moon, my untainted admonition rendered,

What if I were that phoenix with stampede roars,

Soaring with mighty wings: Ain’t I a harbinger or presage?

Those Adamites never plead guilty,

  As if made of a petrified heart of stone,

What a pity! Those humanoids have no other clone!

Thus – whispered in soliloquy to my mirroring epitome:

The stalker inevitable apparition tiptoe his trots.

Or, be it too late for the reckoning sun to shine?

 

An Impulse

 

Farewell to my chatterbox,

Farewell to my invocations,

Farewell to hoax that knocks,

Farewell to peaceful revelations,

 

Farewell to the value of time,

Farewell to the sanctity of a shrine,

Farewell to the words that never rhymed,

Farewell to those who cross the line,

 

Farewell to the solidarity and integrity,

Farewell to honesty and fraternity,

Farewell to the burden of proof of humanism equality,

Farewell to the respect of diversity,

 

All these farewells vexed my shadow,

I wondered to where gone the entire meadow,

Better, be slapped by truth than kissed with a lie,

I could no longer believe a promising oath but, Vie!

Something inside of me, harder to tell,

In case I had that ecstasy elixir, might all end well?

That drowsy core jabbered through my lips,

And, transmitted untold secrecy to my dormant strips,

My lava of volcanic pipe dreams drool,

The quake of tumbling terrestrial serenade was that tool,

For now, synapses of mental caliber weaved my hoovering saga,

Aint I lost my reason or under the spell of coma?!

 

The Shroud Of Virtue

 

Two types of men: those who pelted through egress of a pinhole;

The others sought ingress digging a cavity in a mighty stone,

Truth untold in the yore, syllogism of the entire ethics;

Some folk triggered my ire, troubled my raging superfluous seas,

Some other did inflict havoc upon remnants of history,

And, those voracious fed on tribulation and pains of innocence,

Let alone—that wrath of woe and devastation,

Let alone —that grace of vice and abomination,

Since then, humanity at a stake,

Since then, affinity and fraternity are epithet of such fake,

Since then, I never belonged to those with knavery abyss,

Henceforth, the omnipresent epoch shall nibble the eon for bliss,

Thus, did all bondmen on Earth quench that blazing vice?

Or, be that doddering wisdom prevalent, of automaton device?

Then— who shall pay the price?!

 

AHMED F. BAIDOON

 

AHMED F. BAIDOON: This is Mr. Ahmed F. Baidoon from Egypt, situated on the northern coast of the Mediterranean sea (Damietta), born in 1981, my passion for literary works started at the High School before having my degree at English Department in the university, my former writings during my study were poetic genres translated into the native mother tongue, Arabic, in addition to paraphrasing some poems for Shakespeare, William Words Worth, Yeats and Robert Frost, some highlights on the African contemporary poets and novelists, most of contemporary erudition on the Egyptian writers in literature. Still my poetic modus operandi are reflected throughout finding a manifest-clear equivalent of Arabic literary genre into English context, I am a curious enthusiastic member on the social media Facebook in the forum of Al-jiad in Jordan, Nabd Al-ebda3 Alarabi, Montada Alkalimat in Egypt, Dar Amarji paper editions in Iraq and other Arabic symposia for Poets and literators’ confederations, I won some certificates of appreciation in literary contests as excelled and topped the other colleagues in terms of short stories, micro fiction and poetic stanzas in  Arabic throughout the social media, I am smitten by the English language, rather my Arabic is the most exquisite language with transcendent figures of speech by which I can hardly find an equivalent interpretation into other languages. As for my part, literature is not all-in-all a mere piece of writing that walks and talks, rather ascribing life to non-animate objects and grant life to the surrounding natural elements to be replete with vitality and serenity for the sake of humanity. Attached hereunder some selected poetic archive targeted in March 2024, collections of 3 poems for the World Volume: