HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU

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Drunk and still thinking of you

Too lonely to go sin

But though dump, deaf and blind

I can see and hear you saying

I’ve spent your age ferreting

Please don’t …….. Go !!

Now as I spot you 

I remembered the prayers during the nights 

Naked… weak…. stoned

To the might, the all-knowing

To your God 

That I revenge …

That I stop you

I hated myself … I hate you

I hate The fact

That we became one

That I’m soothed… I live in you

Exhausted but willing to run

To race the cheetah and cheat

To even murder … to culprit

To wrongdo

Just to lay next to you

Now, here

And as I fake a smile

And as I’m hiding the tears

I wish these letters

When merged, squeezed, thrown and brewed

My lay way

Then lost and found in a mess

In a shy stack of hay

Could tell how much I love you

                                          ***Knitted, muffled and mailed to the Syreni of the North Atlantic.

A quick chat with a King

street-vendor-young-child

We all have that little ” Hasan, Luigi, Tom, Julien, Miguel, Hongqi …..etc” in our neighborhoods. I’m talking about that kid who occupies the corner you may stop by for a couple of seconds to tie your shoelaces during your daily outing. He would sit for hours trying all the marketing tips he’s learned over the time at ” the University of Seasons and Seasons on the ground ”  to sell you  chewing gums,a nail clipper, a keychain or just a pack of tissues that could give the vividest denotation of heat, cold, loneliness, war, peace and fear, that was and still the most willing accomplice when sinning and the most placating solace when bewailing. A pack of tissues that comprehends that none of the mentioned tips could make this long-awaited detachment from his “Roi ” as soon as begging would.

The king supplicated !!!!!

In a planet where a porn star has millions of fans on social media and tons of food are wasted rather than donated ……. A real king is likely to beg. Actually he’s good at it, he even considers it a life-skill which endures just like riding a bicycle or pitching a tent appropriately and as there was a need for a first time to gain this skill, I was wondering when was the King’s premiere and here was the answer.

I begged him once to have a bite

Of his sandwich

 I begged her mom so we hang out 

She was a bitch

I begged their sister for love the sacred 

I was mortified…. I developed hatred

He knew I was amazed by the way he speaks.

He knew I underestimated him.

He knew I thought he’s unlettered.. so he added.

I am the King and I’m lucky

The best poet is a friend

And he enlightened me

The victims of genius are clients

And they taught me

It’s by the painter and his beloved

I was worshiped 

And by the monk and his God 

I was venerated

It was a struggle, a hardship I should admit

A fight to which I was challenged

But with Neptune and Uranus 

I was blessed

As when a cop scolded

There was a hippie to cheer up

And when an ugly disgusted

There was a cute to joy me up

I didn’t say Adios as I went. The king is easy to find

I just winked, smiled, hand-slauted him and wished I could be a king for a while

 

ON SUFISM ————- feeling thankful

sufi festival calligraphy art 

OH ALLAH !!!!!

I’M HEALED

I NO LONGER WORRY

I WON’T AGONIZE

I’VE SEEN THE BEAUTY

THE KARMA HIT ME

THE BIRDY WINKED 

I’M REVOLVING 

I FORGOT HOW TO HATE 

I’M FINALLY WISE 

WHY DO I LOVE My JOB ??????

I’m loath to admit that I’m sorry for you dad. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the doctor or the judge you always pictured me. I won’t be able to send you the driver, to book you a suite. I myself go to hostels and will probably start couch surfing 🙂 . I’d say sorry to the girl who may one day decide to spend the rest of her life with me. I don’t think you’ll ever be in your own house, where you go water the flowers and plant a tree that you will repeatedly talk about to our grandchildren. Opposite, we’re likely to wake up with a pissed landlord knocking on the door cursing the day he rented out his/her property that won’t be large enough to run after you from a room to another……….. I’m just a teacher …. I know it’s hard for you to understand what’s really amazing in this position to make someone so proud that he wakes up everyday with a grin to meet’em sweet devils to teach them something to both give them a hard time and be driven bananas every once in awhile. Here’s what happened couple of minutes ago. I hope it will give a better explanation of why I would never plan to quit this job any soon.

I just got a message from a student that I’ve been teaching in the past. The guy got married and he recently had a baby that he called Khaled (my name). Here’s a humble translation of his message that would make the shittiest day of the unluckiest cabbie ever !!!!

Dear teacher,, I don’t know where you are now. You know I miss you so much and I love you like a big brother though you’re younger than me. I wished you could stay with us longer. Do you remember ********** telling you that we should find you a woman here so you marry her and live amidst us. Anyway I hope you are happy and successful. Last week I was so busy I couldn’t write to tell you that I became a father .. Yeaaaaah I have a son that I attached his photo to the mail. You know what ??? His name is Khaled. For couple of months I and my wife were debating on the name we would select. I’m not sure if I will be a good father but I wish he will be a great man like you. 

Teacher I love you soooo much 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 

***** In the part of the world where I am actually they would call a man who cries a naive. I’m happy and proud of being that idiot

— I once have wished —

I once have wished 

There was a planet 

where I plus you equals you

 

I once have wished 

That at night as in the morning 

the sun shone

So I can surf those wrinkles 

Slide along your lips 

Drift, bounce, fall and shift 

And proudly announce

I located beauty 

I once have wished 

I could chaperone you

So I voetsak

Out of the land of Right

And shoo the guilt away

 

I once have wished 

Death was a party 

And Azrael was a welcomed advena

So I recommend his comradeship 

So I smile as we parted

— Unjealous —

The lover is sorry………..

It took him hundreds

Of cold moonless nights

To learn how to share his beloved

With the wind and the sidewalks

With a jasmine she picked on the way home

And a child she kissed

With the sand in her shoes

And a moment she missed

With the last verse of a song

She doesn’t know the libretto

So she mumbled

With the memory of a lamented father

She couldn’t find in him

He who loves her the most

Deemed dividing a loss

And judged splitting a sin 

He no long worships 

The moon nor the sun

The lover tired

The lover is dying

She said

Thank you for the purely fearful glances

I might have danced with the globe

But those were all Dosados

It’s the last step, the final move

The eternal fall that matters

And it’s yours forever

Will you call it ……. ? I won’t !!

 ingerOnShore_3

And now I wonder

How could I make it 

All those years without you

Will you call it a triumph

I won’t !!

Wasn’t it witless to waive a reality

To a  mirage

To forgo a villa to a gunyah

Will you call it a smart deal

I won’t !!

She said ………….

Why do we have to be

Knee-deep, Chest-deep then neck-deep in mud

To sink, to drown, to die reaching the shore

Will you call it a choice 

I won’t !!