Killing Silence

Mothers suffer, fathers die
little babies not knowing why
are so scared and start to cry
and all you do is watch and sigh

Scary planes are in the sky
baby girl just stares up high
says look dad how fast they fly
and all you do is watch and sigh

who knows what will satisfy
evil’s thirst to kill and fry
frightful nights are passing by
and all you do is watch and sigh

In calm days you always pry
Poke your nose in like a spy
Suddenly now, you are too shy
And all you do is watch and sigh

Saying you care is big a lie
You see them dare to even try
to seize our soils, to occupy
and all you do is watch and sigh

We fight alone and we defy
With faith in God as our ally
triumph is here, you can’t deny
And all you do is watch and sigh

The Last Day

All children have a favorite toy or something they are attached to and won’t leave home or even sleep without making it a crucial, probably the most essential part of their still too limited vision of this already frightening life they feel are about to lead thus finding in this familiar object a sort of a security blanket they tend to turn to anytime they feel troubled.

A child starts growing up and the picture of his path into this world becomes clearer but greater along the years with more difficulties and now becoming more obvious obstacles he needs to surpass using what he learned all through these years, feeling stronger and more confident all the while never willing to relinquish his affection and love to this companion of many years.

Parents or guardians usually intervene around this stage to help their son forget about his cushion or their daughter put aside her doll but all through a very slow step by step process fearing an abrupt retraction might traumatize their child, damage his sense of security and throw him into some sort of a deep physiological trance that will lead him to become either very apprehensive of or too hostile to his environment.

Unfortunately this is always the case but because the incident occurs at youth this consequent imbalance hopefully tend to disappear with time and age bringing most of the victims back to a more or less stable course of life and have others at least be categorized by society as people undergoing rehabilitation process for whom we should feel remorseful until the time they recover from this frenzy.

But what happens if an adult is facing this same problem, an adult who managed to remain attached to his security blanket all through the years or has recently found one thinking he has now reached utmost confidence and freedom in decision making to keep it but suddenly learns his possession will be snatched from him, his hands tied and there is nothing he can do about it except letting out a torn scream of pain...

“Please don’t take away my doll”

The Seventh Sin

They went out again and she felt good
As if he knows to set the perfect mood
Candle dinner or maybe romantic food
A champagne bottle and burning wood

Facing her perfect body he later stood
He kissed her neck her breath accrued
His arms embracing her like they should
Looking from far you’d think they glued

Passion increased it became understood
That in few seconds there’ll be no hood
To cover her beauty from this bad dude
Who’s only interested in his mandhood

I thought and thought as much as I could
About what happened, and how it's rude
For him to have his pleasure when I would
Not even be allowed to glimpse at her nude

Love Thy Neighbor

I know Ahmad from day one as my neighbor living in an awkwardly adjacent old apartment probably the most ancient in the center of Beirut with our bedroom windows facing each other absurdly too close making the only possible view our respective sleeping area and the inevitable "good morning Ahmad" a daily ritual one could not escape.

I know Ahmad from that old noisy and packed with awfully smelling children yellow bus where 3 years older than me he voluntarily acted as my guardian angel and defended me from those bad older kids who had nothing better to do than hit on younger frail students like me on that twice a day tedious journey to a hope for a better education and fro.

I know Ahmad from his sister Zeina whom at the age of 13 had already the looks, shape and assets of a young beautiful woman with whom I had experienced my first sensual encounter and simultaneously developed with the exclusive knowledge and consent of her brother our primary steps of lovemaking in a world where we both found happiness but sadly drifted like any two pure things eventually do.

I know Ahmad from the early days of civil war when my dad taking into consideration the religious conflicts that nobody really felt but all deeply feared decided it is time we move from our house of so many generations into a new area at the west side of the country where people of our faith now belonged and Ahmad was there to help pack, carry, load on trucks our possessions with apparent tears in his eyes and mine.

I know Ahmad from the long phone conversations we used to have when after we moved out I’d call in an attempt to hear Zeina’s voice again but end up enjoying a conversation with her brother telling me about the recent changes in our neighborhood, the new grocery store around the corner or some local basketball game that ended with the usual fight reminding me of our cheerful night walks back home after such a joyous event.

I know Ahmad from the red zone in the heart of the capital during the heaviest days of war where we both were but each from his side with sometimes less than 100 feet apart behind sandbags trying all day long to protect our so called beliefs and prevent one another from gaining more grounds, yet still stealing rare quiet moments between gunfire and shelling to shout greetings to those phantom voices we sometimes recognize.

I know Ahmad from June 8 1987 when after extensive bombing to secure the area my commander ordered our troop to attempt a takeover on what was left of a building strategically situated not so far in the enemy zone to which we entered ever so fiercely and I took up my position waiting for a movement for about the longest 5 minutes of my life until suddenly a shadow passed and a scream of agonizing death followed my rifle shots.

I knew Ahmad, he was a friend, a brother...a casualty of war

Lido

Where do I begin To tell the story of how great a love can be The sweet love story that is older than the sea The simple truth about the love she brings to me This was the song used right in the middle between the huge water fountain that appeared out of nowhere and the half naked guy doing his acrobats on a white bed sheet hanging from the ceiling maybe trying to depict what life would have been hadn’t Eve eaten from that apple tree making these two scenes probably the finest but still mediocre in this tedious show called the Lido. If exquisitely beautiful exposed women and a great expensive technology were put together in an attempt to create in less than two hours something enthralling to a desperate middle aged audience, an ugly to say the least lead singer coupled with a bad seating arrangements and definitely an enormous lack of imagination came to ruin it all. With a varied selection of animals ranging from a Wooden Elephant a tiger woman and the this time real horse, to guys and girls dressed in cats and dogs and maybe wolves depending if this was intentional or just a make-up blunder of some sort on a couple of dogs, to even a cockroach passing by our dinner table, the only differentiation from your basic yearly home town Circus would be the additional 94.5 euros entry fee and some tits. This made me wonder where my 100 euros went so I started counting how many dancers are on stage and to ease in my disappointment decided to equally divide this sum on them after eliminating the vocalist whose contract I’m sure was made benevolently unless we live in a sick society who would think that a heavy British accent with a very high pitched squeaky voice fucking your ear drums can be sexy. Suddenly and again thanks to impressive technology a somehow suspended plane came over our heads to the center of the stage and without landing just stopped in the air to disembark its only passenger, no one else but you know who, and give me for a split second the hope of escape I’ve been longing for imagining I could just jump up to this flying object and disappear with it out of this suffocating place. But this didn’t happen. Instead I silently waited in the dark corner of my seat sipping what was left of my champagne bottle, closed my eyes and drifted in a creative dream of a better show filled with my own immense imagination for the remainder of the fifteen minutes after which and if you were at the Champs Elysees you could have seen a bunch of crestfallen people getting out from beneath a neon lighted sign of what should be the best show in the world. Where do I start…

Die Until Death

She came to this world to serve a purpose just like in my beliefs everyone else did except that hers is very obvious to the point that the word “Apocalypse” is written on her forehead for all to see and know in a matter of second the danger she carries and is keenly capable of inflicting on others for no reason but the mere pleasure of watching them suffer.

A lovely smile beneath her big shining eyes captures you in an instant and throws you into this transcendent hypnosis taking away bit by bit all the rationale you have worked so hard to build in your early days reducing you to an insignificant devotee amongst a massive herd of men she already has as her own.

Willingly or against your better judgment you find yourself unreservedly controlled by a power so overwhelming to resist and yet you will think too charming to want to let go, by that obliviously becoming her number one assistant in a fatal sentence she inflicts on your existence as a respectable human being in a society now too distant from your vision to life.

Your soul sinks deeper than the titanic killing altogether none other than what was left of your already dormant ego thus finishing off any spark of hope that might have resisted her evil nature encompassing your every earlier attempts to escape what you now consider as a heavenly trance you are so fortunate to have and worship.

Unofficially dead, this is when you cut all threads to life and become unconditionally focused on her every command with nothing more important to you than obeying and pleasing her in any way she wishes hoping you will somehow be rewarded with her mysterious beauty by allowing you to feel the softness of a skin your whole life depends on.

Instead she decides just like that and out of the blue that she has had enough of your despicable presence behind her on your knees all the time and chooses to just let go of you and so she does dropping you from as low as you already are to an even lower level you never thought it existed until this very long second of clarity that comes between the time your head hits that place and death.

It Was Only a Dream

This was just a dream. This is what I do; I provide people with dreams that would last much longer than your basic one hour vision you are allowed to get every night during your sleep. Mine goes for weeks, maybe months depending on how naive you are, how much you are willing to believe what I tell you or maybe just how bad deep within you are in need for this.

I don’t do anything you are not expecting me to do, and I don’t say anything you’re not dying to finally hear. All I do is look at you, study your feelings, understand your desires and offer you, even if not for eternity and so what if it’s only a big lie at the end, what you have been longing for your entire life.

God alternates by giving you two kinds that are usually derived from your inner subconscious. Some are translated into nightmares after which you wake up all shaky, sweating and ever so glad it’s over while others are good dreams from which you wake up with a smile on your face yet a bit kinda sad it’s over wishing it would have lasted longer.

The reason he does that, the reason his dreams are always varied and with an awfully short span of time is that he is very smart, extremely considerate to my taste and knows how feeble you are, thus tries to protect you from getting too much attached to this heavenly hour so that when you wake up, this slight feeling of regret you will have does not affect your entire real life and is soon forgotten.

The similarity is striking as I am also aware of the effect of too long dreams and I know very well how despicably weak of a person you are with the only difference that I may be the most heartless person you have ever met and I have no consideration whatsoever to the aftermath of my present to you. If you suffer after having my dream because it was too long and beautiful I consider that to be entirely your fault because you have decided to have it this way.

Now Wake up…Your dream is over