LightsLights of churches, monasteries, Christmas trees, and magnificent mosquesThe dim lights inside warm houses in all the foreign cities where I wandered aloneThe far away lights of cars driving over bridges I watched from the windows of boring hotelson clear moonlit nightsCandle lights and lanternsLights of little shops in ancient and forgotten alleysLights of ships sailing to places I will never get to seeThe lamp post lights on dark rainy winter nightsThe remote lighthouses and lights of unknown fishermenThe glittering lights I have seen in the eyes of kind strangersin cities tourists never go toAll these lights I once loved that break me nowas they remind me of the magical light that was extinguished in your eyes …[Original poem published in Arabic on November 13, 2024 at ahewar.org]

The Triumph of Goodness If only the realitywas like cartoons like teenager books and storiesor like the countless movies and soap operasproduced specially for the naïvein which goodness triumphs at the end…Anyone who follows the reality of the worldclosely and deeply,shall find that the triumph of goodnessis nothing but a mytha trickcreated by the evildoers themselvesto trick us into thinking that goodness, honesty, and virtues win in the end…The world turns upside downwhen we discover thatall these good and well-selected virtuesare nothing but myths fabricated by the vicious and the evil onesto permanently maintain their control over the naïve who believe that goodness triumphs just like at the end of movies…[Original poem published in Arabic on February 26, 2024 at ahewar.org]

Shocks and JoysThe biggest shocks in life were:That freedom is a lieChoosing chains carefully is more important than chasing illusions…That family and relatives are but a hit or miss biological coincidence…That life isn’t short as they claimfor those who understand the game…That there is no friend in need, but indeed, need is the only constant friend…The biggest joys in life were:The smell of a freshly baked loaf of breadA sip of waterThe depth of a wordThe taste of a fresh figThe silence and tunes of natureThe unexpected scent of a rose that tickles the noseafter having fallen in the abyss of despair…[Original poem published in Arabic on March 9, 2023 at ahewar.org]

Hand WatchesI opened the drawerwhere I keep old things and tokens…I looked over some hand watcheswith dead batteries and frozen times…Watches gifted to me over the yearsby teachers or friendscommending my accomplishments and respect for time…It never occurred to them nor to me thenthat Time would die in a heart attackand cease to matterthe day my homeland was occupied and destroyed…The day plunderers, in collaboration with thieves at home,would burn and destroy everything beautiful…And ever since, I refuse to wear hand watches…I vowed not to wear a hand watchuntil my people retrieve their Time and dignity…And when that happens, Time will not matterfor I will then turn into a butterflya sparrowa daffodilan orangeOr perhaps an apricot blossom on a branch…I will turn into a spring of waterflowing beyond time and timing …In that same drawer I foundpens that have run out of inklooking now like mummified corpses…At a moment of despair,A strong feeling struck me like a lightningleaving me with a frightening question:What if this is a wound no time can heal,a cause that no ink can revive?[Published on April 7, 2023 on CounterPunch.org]

A Moment of JoyThe ruling global elites are holding their breath in anticipation ofwho may be the first to start a nuclear war!The wealthy and the stock market tradersare fearfully watching the fluctuation in the stock prices…Writers, media pundits, and academicson the payroll of power and authorityare worried about a potential revolutionthat may put an end to the powers in place,and consequently to their existence!Doctors, engineers, and other professionalsare all alarmed and watching the job market in fear of losing their cushy jobs!Only the waitress at the nearby restaurantis experiencing a moment of joyfor the generous tip she just received from the last customer tonight![Original poem published in Arabic on October 30,2023 at ahewar.org]

BarbieThrough my many and long travelsI’ve come across many who read booksOn planes, buses, and on trains…Over the years, three titles caught my attentionof books in the hands of women who either looked like or tried to look like the Barbie doll…I don’t remember the exact titles of these books, But I remember that one of them was something along the lines of“how keep your husband or preserve your marriage.”The other was something about “signs that he is cheating on you.”And the third was something on how to get rid of him and move on!It was as if these titles summarized the lifecycle of every woman who lets herself to play the role of a Barbie…And I often wondered if reading books on“How to stop playing the Barbie role” in love and lifeis not just enough to solve all the problems the other three books are claiming to address…[Original poem published in Arabic on May 16, 2024 at ahewar.org]

[Hand Watches] I opened the drawer where I keep old things and tokens. I glanced over some hand watches with dead batteries and frozen times… Watches that were gifted to me over time by teachers or friends to commend my accomplishments and respect for time… It never occurred to them or to me then that Time would die in a heart attack and will cease to be important the day my homeland was occupied and destroyed… The day the occupying thieves, in collaboration with the thieves within, would burn and destroy everything beautiful in it… And since then, I refuse to wear hand watches and will never wear one until my people get back their Time and dignity… And when that happens, Time will remain unimportant, for then, I will turn into a butterfly, a sparrow, a daffodil or an orange blossom, or perhaps an apricot blossom on a branch, an unstoppable sprig of water that flows beyond time and timing… In that same drawer, I found pens that have run out of ink, looking like mummified corpses… At a moment of despair, a strong feeling struck me like lightning, leaving me with a frightening question: What if this is a wound that all time can’t cure, a cause that all the ink of the world can’t solve? [Original poem published in Arabic on February 5, 2023 at ahewar.org]