Thursday, February 14, 2013


Ya Allah
I am holding your trees
touching the grass
because you walk
in waters of rain
I am bleaching my soul
for your sun to dry
I am hanging my submission
to the clothesline
where do we meet ?
Will it be a bullet on my head?
a crash on the street
name it ?
shake your hands
with the worthy
I am dreaming this in arabic
Come lets dance in the sea of light
a prayer I hear behind the clouds
a voice over the land
over the sea in broad daylight
be open to your wings
fly to the call of prayer
in white veils

Tuesday, February 12, 2013


I saw myself in thin emptiness
pale transluscent as if I drowned in seawater 
thats when I became a paper
floating in the open 
as if to wait for waves 
to be divided apart
my words unread by fish

Sunday, February 10, 2013

roses in paper

Come out strong
Soft but perfumed like a box of soap
Come out strong
shaking disasters in silly ideas
that will make the world smile
warming our frozen hope

Tuesday, February 05, 2013

Kissa in the middle of a market

I will bring myself to a dangerous street 
where a man sits waiting to tell how swords
were drawn in the ancient cities of long ago
how blood spilled in the name of honour
and no one dared to say the word defeat
come heroes in the tongue of this hlaykia
the sands of time will bring us there
the man who is encircled in the square
will have a place in this afternoon
He will be making the snake charmers and their snakes listen
Enchanted by his words they forget who they
are right at the moment
and those who work will stop to take tea
this break is called the dusk of storytelling
and when he says the word 'sword'
everyone will wince as if they see how sharp
illuminating the silver metal drawn
stopping to the kissa of how the universe came to be
and how monsters were killed by strong men
and women knew what to say
when they are about to die in the hands
of sandstorms that are calmed
by the sound of a violin

Monday, February 04, 2013


Be not afraid for what you fear
is not a thousand grain
that will bury you
it is just a few hair locks
a few strands
and the wind can blow it away
just like those furry things that fly
coming from weeds
from cat furs
from worn out carpets
they fly but not decay
be brave as a firm prayer
a bird in flight
praying in Maghrib
the sun prays too
before it sleeps