Wide eyed,
dense and intense,
Trying to climb
the ladder of hopes.

Strong and determined,
following the rules
we forgot how to stop
and think about values.

Humid blind,
we forgot how to ask
we forgot what to ask,
resigned humankind.

Threw up my garbage,
happy there's always someone
coming and picking it up
cause anyway what we all think
is who cares about the damage?

Progress is all that we want
and this world slowly becomes
a playground for our minds
programmed by the big guys.

Pulling my curtain away,
I check any visible sign
of something we once knew and worshiped
as ruling our majestic planet.

Superficiality,
Ignorance,
these are the words
that come to my mind
when I want to describe
what we strongly embrace
as the superior race.

And as time passes by
all that remains is a sigh,
but we still have the hopes
that we can transform into ropes.

Hoping I'll touch somebody's heart
I will continue to write
And hope one day we can unite
To put back up the work of art.

Who made this existence, not you nor I
But the day the swallows began to fill the sky
We remembered the things we shouldn't have done
The revolution of our minds had begun
There were smoke clouds and bombs,  our tears ran like rain
None of us willing to go there again
Our intentions were clear, our desires not met
They tried to fight back, longed for us to forget
Our minds turned to hatred, our souls turned to why
Who made this existence, not you nor I
We are searching for the answer we will never receive
We do not cry for our lost ones, we will not grieve
The day dead bodies littered the ground
They all lay silenced, not making a sound
We have no answer, we do not know why
Who made this existence, not you nor I

you don't care much
about the poetry, in set cutlery

and how a multi-course,
when served-
are iambic in its essence

your gastronomical flair
is limited to the interest
of food tasting

so your buds
can spin-off
a taste to your own liking


*Spin off fare

Fragile flickering celluloid reels
Behind the light of the projector
A single beam of changing colors
Displayed on the silver screen ahead.
Fixtures dim and black the room
Filled an audience anxious and waiting,
Waiting to see what’s to be seen.
I love the look of film!
In its variety of size and color
35mm and 70
Digital and Film
Black and white to Technicolor
Three dimensions or two.
The history of an art form
Forming before your eyes
Seen here are the scenes of time
From anywhere that’s been seen
A dynamic show of lives lived and lost
Brought in pieces pieced together
By those much like us
Unfolding a world survived
By war and a way of life lost
Fallen years ago
Survived by the look of cellulloid
A world encompassed in film;
Where time is never lost
And life is always found.

:)

True men
are made by Allah, and are raised
by true women who teach boys
to be strong, be fearless, be a man
True men want to find a true woman
to thank
for what their mothers taught.