الثلاثاء، 31 مارس 2015

Memoirs From Disturbia


I remember the orange butterfly
Whose wings I tore off so it wouldn't venture to fly
And I
Happily told my sister
That this one seems to like resting on my index finger
I remember the lean kid that used to get bullied
By the boys at school
I sat with him as he cried in an empty classroom
And he gave me a red flower on Valentine's day
That I flung away
I remember the silent weeps of grandmother's cat
Her muffled moans when her little kitten
Was accidentally stepped on
And she didn't die until dusk
I remember when people looked like
Comic figures when I was a kid
How the words they uttered
Would propel across the void
And outta my grasp they would skid
I thought they were sick
When enough years have passed, I think it was then
That I knew I was not alright
I remember the white dove
That slowly got squished by a car
When she was obliviously resting in its shade
How I stayed to watch the light fade from her eyes
While she flapped her loose wing in vain
And I remember when I caught two caterpillars and
Put together in a jar to keep each other company during the night
One of them did not sleep and she ate into the other
And died inside

I remember the things that hurt the most
I wonder why, for a child, it's a bit strange
Every vision that left a scar seems as clear as the sun
And yet happy moments feel like flashes of lucid dreams
Passing scenes from a different realm
That go as soon as they come

Why is it that memories come back knocking at your door
When you least expect them
Peer through the windows
Catching your wary eyes
Demanding that you respect them

By not pretending to have forgotten.


الأحد، 15 فبراير 2015

I Was Told


When I was a child, I was told by the kids at the playground
That my skin was too brown to be first at the swing
Ever since then, I stopped getting myself kissed by the sun
Replaced my skaters with tea sets
And my excursions with day dreams
I grew older, and was told at school
That I had to give up my slacks, and look more like a girl
I got a braid with a fringe to cover my African forehead,
Pink garments and colorful bracelets
When I reached eighteen it was remarked by the older ladies at tea sittings
That I was still too juvenile in my manners
That a woman shouldn’t speak her mind, nor act her age
So I treaded as if the smallest start will breach my modesty
Held my lips poised between a smile and a kiss
And chewed well on my words before I swallowed them back
I was told then that my imagination was obviously rampant for an adolescent
And the vibe that I gave when I toyed with ink was pleasantly florescent
But if I knew my good I would pick a trade with a title
That announced my worth out loud
So I threw away my sketchbooks, and tried to get an esteemed education
Where I was told that I pondered for too long, and argued too reasonably
Invested too much time figuring digits out instead of giving them away
So the heart I kept at bay, too afraid to go wrong in my calculations
I uncaged at last
Went ahead and fell for a brute boy that broke it apart
And ,Alas !
When all was said and done, I was still called pretentious
Apparently, for conforming so well
Shamed for having so many faces that I couldn't even tell who I was
Twenty five years of age, and I just realized that demolishing myself and rebuilding again
Mimicking the willful gestures of a mannequin, wasn't the way out of this confusion
That folks will never cease to criticize one's bearing and guise
Because they need a constant distraction from their dire straits of incertitude
And all these years I wasted trying to reach at perfection
I could've spent wearing my flaws
So perfectly.

الجمعة، 23 يناير 2015

Do I Wanna Know?



I know what you meant by that vexatious gesture
Liking that Instagram picture with my new "BFF" caption
It kinda hurts, though
You pressed a virtual button on your phone
And I wrote this poem
Because it felt as if you've shot an arrow
Dipped with your bitter slings
An arrow that knew by habit
How to evade my ribs and aim right through to my heart
And, I know
For we've lived under the same roof once and I know you well
To divine what you think
Hell , we shared the same pillow when we used to watch movies late at night
And I'd fall asleep half-way through, next to you

Do you still remember ?

Warm memories like that make a safe abode to return to
When you look back amid the storm of life
Trying to look for the closest Check Point
Before every thing went wrong
And it's true
That I have plenty of friends now ,of which i'm fond
But your absence still hurts
Because I'm growing older and wiser
And with the passing years I realize that sharing the same genes
With your best friend is a priceless kind of bond
That you can't manufacture based on demand
And...when I watch other kinsmen rolling around
Carriers of the same blood, so connected and bound
Biding close and sticking together against the blows of life
Arguing with zeal but forgetting about it by next day
Not having to conceal their shame nor their flaws
Because they know you, and they know al beer wo '3a6aha
And I just muse and wonder what ever went wrong...

Hey,
Whatever went wrong ?

And yes, they were your replacement, as a matter of fact
But I wasn't tryinna rub it in your face
Nor tried to deface the beauty of what we had
I was just looking for the same connection somewhere else
But the fact that you took it as an offence
Is a sign that you still care, amirite ?
I realize how ridiculous and childish this whole farce seems
Maybe it's not that mainstream a fight
We've grown out of our old ,young selves
But we still spat in such a juvenile way
Because this is all what's left to us
We can't go back to how we were
So exchanging punches around the bush is all we got
As proof that we once cared
I truly do miss you, although, and I have to admit how it pains me
When I hear about you from folks that didn't know you
The way I did
I go like "Yeah, i know"
While trying to hide my anguish-laced embarrassment
At how i'm supposed to be part of the coup
How I pass by the places I know you frequent
And I hold my phone or pretend that i'm busy chatting with a friend
To appear happy and content without you around
Just in case you happened to be there
And when we are forced by due courtesy to be at the same place
At the same time
So we stand 5 feet apart, interchanging nods and salutations
How we try to keep up appearances in front of our relations
By exchanging curt condolences and dry congratulations
Glancing sideways, never making eye contact
Because it burns
Forever misjudging and distrusting
Covertly thrusting and taking turns
In firing shots

Amigo, we need to stop doing this

I'm growing older and wiser and I realize that I wanna be back in your life
As bad as I want you back in mine
But you are still antagonizing me, saying that I'm "a snake"
When I'm not around
Accusing me of being "condescending" and "fake"
And I catch wind of you talking trash and tryinna wound me
Without putting your face at stake
But I'm not planning to fend your bullets anymore
I'm done fighting from my side
I'm just waiting for you to grow up and stop acting like a lil snide
But if you are counting on me to come out of my hole
And fix what's wrecked
You are counting, my friend, on a shaky fence that's bound to fall
For I never learnt how to fix , I only know how to destroy
And this lengthy feud made me so good at manipulation and ploys
Believe me, I could have raised the white flag ages ago
If I knew for sure that it would have ended this fray
But i don't want to step on my ego on the way to shake your hands
While you take pleasure in abusing my diligence
I'm the wise one here, I know, but it wasn't even my fault, as I recall
You still owe me an apology; before we allow the water to run back to its tracks
For what's the point if the stream is still foul

And you still pretending that it is to you a matter of "pride"
Whose pride is that ?, allow me to ask
When no wrong has been done to you ?
When i received all the hits
When I had to pay the bill and took your sortie
Though I was the one slandered and I was the one in pain
And I was the one obliged to bottle up and rein
I held fire because i was only too good to sink so low
And you, you held the door without a pause of affect
So confound you, my friend. with all due respect

Nay,
forgive me, for to flay was not my initial aim
It was my damn Pride throwing a tirade to win acclaim
What is there to say, when pride has the last verdict?
Except that I pray in the quite of the night
I hope, and I yearn that our ways intersect
Believe me I wish that I can call you one day
On matters aside from courtesy and business
And we can laugh and joke around, and talk nonsense
Maybe next year, or perhaps hence
When we are old enough to grasp that blood is thicker than water
That life is too short to waste on feuds and blunders
And we start to appreciate the things that truly matter
So i'm gonna ask you ,one more time

Do I wanna know, if this feeling goes both ways?


* Mamihlapinatapai : Yaghan tongue, noun. "The wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start.”

الثلاثاء، 13 يناير 2015

On Anticipation And Dread


I lie in wait ,shrunken in my car seat
It was a night quiet as a grave, dark as the air of a bereaved
I could almost touch my breath in this cold
A ghost escaping my guts, floating about
Hitting the roof like solitude hit my consciousness
And I lie in wait, for a phone call, for a twist in fate
A dripping cone in my hands to quill the flames in my guts
See, when all goes wrong one has to be in control of their pain
Every lick sent shivers down my bent spine
And stuck a hundred needles unto my frozen tongue
Every lick is a declaration of defiance, against whom, it wasn't clear
But it keeps me alive, though frost-stung

Why do you think pain is so delectable?

Because tormenting thyself becomes a habit
When you are too numbed to feel
And too slow to understand that you dread what you wish for

That phone call, it came

I held my breath
It's ringing
Chiming
Threatening
Resounding like the old bells of Rome
Echoing through the Mosaic panes and reflecting off the dome

Do I answer, or do I not ?

To answer is to end a millennium spent in suspense and anxiety
A peculiar blend of dread and anticipation
But hold on,
Maybe I don't want to disappoint my surging expectations
By picking up the phone and revealing the unknown
Perhaps the lengthy pine was better than this horror
For, can you tell me about hope and optimism
When you've crossed that long tunnel
Only to find that your sought-after exit is but a wan kindle
Maybe,
Maybe,
You should've halted your ramble and camped where you were
Forever thinking falsely that salvation is but yonder
That the gratification of your hunger is close to your reach
But only if you want it
And only if you dare

It makes you wonder if oblivion is truly a bliss
Whether hope gorges on darkness and feeds on blind guess
But ceases to grow and takes its regress
When reality comes over, sneering with a hiss

And what was wrong with waiting anyway ?
The night was long, and, it's true, I was servile
But i was tryinna fend the epilogue of my struggle
To cap the bottle of my hopes was something i didn't intend
For waiting lights the torch of hope in your heart
While weakens your will to change your present
And you can remain the certified weakling that you are
Hiding under your blankets, shivering in the dark
Pretending that it's too cold
When you are just too scared to face the gloom of reality
And the factual morbidity

I lie in wait,
Ignoring the fact that I've reached the end of my tunnel
And it's time to grasp that it's a dead end for me
Unless I bare my claws and start drilling my way out
Staining my lap with the dirt of ambition
But I'm wearing a white gown of defeatism that I want to keep clean
It's perfumed with the false impression that everything is gonna work out somehow, even if I don't attempt to get out of this spleen
I thought that I was nonchalantly being Jacque's abundance of Fatalism
But I'm actually Jack's Total Lack of Motivation
And my sole excuse is that
I'm still waiting for a sign from Heaven to step out of my comfort zone
So picking up the phone and knowing that i'm doomed, my friend
Is simply and obviously out of the question

And so I lie in wait
Holding my cone
Hands trembling, my mind frozen
While my ice cream melted
Seeped between my fingers and dug through my lap
The ringing,
The torture,
Seemed to have stopped
Or perhaps it never rang and it was just a flap
Induced by boredom and mental suspense
Which, is highly probable, ladies and gents
And hence I shall keep awaiting
For another eternity
A phone call that i'm not going to answer

Out of cowardice

الاثنين، 24 نوفمبر 2014

I'm Feeling 23. Not.

I've been asked how it feels to *finally* be 23.
Well, I would like to say that it feels fabulous, but i'm afraid i'd be lying to you.

What it actually feels like is being kicked by the butt out of my comfort-zone and right into the turbulent universe of adulthood.
I feel exhausted ,overwhelmed, and consumed all the time, and I get irritated by the smallest things such as the fact that it hasn't rained yet this year.
My first reaction when my phone rings is WHAT NOW?, and I deal with strangers more than i interact with intimates.
I'm always thinking of hell lotsa things when i'm supposed to focus on one, and end up not doing anything right because i can't give my all to one task.

I feel like i'm running out of time and that I still achieved nothing of the goals i sat when I was younger, and that i've done nothing remarkable in my life that I could tell my children about ,although ,arguably, i still have plenty of time to achieve before i'm forced by social norms to settle down and form my own family. This is the time of achievements, yet i'm doing nothing but study and work, study and work, study and work ,while missing all the joys and comforts of life that my peers are indulging . I'm stuck in my tracks basically doing nothing of significance. That is, in the long timeline of my life.

And I feel that i'm not ready to be an adult yet, I was caught off guard, and suddenly fast-forwarded to this point while I was spacing out. i'm at that age where I don't know if I should be adventurous, wild and free, or I should worry about things such as social standing and financial security.
Don't listen to them when they say that the legal age is 21 because *youth become mildly mature and responsible* by the time they graduate from higher education. That's bullshit, 21 y/os are college juniors/seniors, they are still kids that think their biggest problems is a strict professor or a C in a major course. You become a full-fledged adult not even when you graduate, but when you join the working force and start paying your own bills.

This isn't how i imagined myself at 23, I'm an irritable person now. Often moody, bitter, and outwardly repulsive. I sort of became aware of this notion -privilege, if you might; that it is fine to extract my revenge against bigger things than individuals; I can break the small rules, i can be a disruptive civilian, a rude driver, a nagging customer, a noisy neighbor, a manipulative lover. I don't have to filter what I say. I can ignore a question I don't want to answer and I can say No to a troublesome favor asked of me and I can also choose not to look cheerful and happy so as not to be a buzz-kill. Let the frigging buzz die.

I can be angry.

And I feel angry, in fact, at something- I don't know what is, everything, everyone, this city, life, myself, but it is okay to vent my anger now that i joined the rest of the productive members of society .I can be the abusive, instead of the abused, without having to feel so guilty about it, since everyone does the same.

It makes much sense now why older people looked so tense and upset all the time they wouldn't even look at the beautiful sky nor spend time to make each other feel good by exchanging greetings and compliments. Ain't nobody got time for that. Being troubled became the usual thing, distrusting a stranger became my first reaction, expecting the worst became what I base my plans on. It is so sad it makes me want to destroy something.

What's worse is that you can't blame this angry disposition on age as is the case with teenage crises. For I (also arguably) don't lack wisdom and am no longer young and blameless. But it is the same thing, a confusing stage of transition where you don't know on which side you belong.

Maybe i'm just angry because it recently hit me that I'm actually growing old, that i can't stop the wheels of time, that ,soon enough, i'll start to worry about things such as wrinkles and white hair and poor sight- leave alone all the life decisions that i'll have to make, and soon enough i'll have to get married, because "I'm too young" isn't gonna delay that fate.
I'm becoming one of *them* now, and i can't refer to adults as an alien, strict, authoritarian, uncool, boring group anymore because that would include myself as well.

And the fact that i'm surrounded either by people with much experience and far more complicated problems than i have, and more serious inclinations and interests by which they occupy their time and discuss in their circles, which makes them too depressing to hang out with. Or by clueless kids that seem to know nothing about life but turning up and having fun while leaving their mess for someone else to clean up, not knowing how to take responsibility for their actions nor making actual life decisions, which makes me feel too old and mature for my age group....and depressed even more.

I'm stuck in between.This is my labyrinth. I hate odd numbers. 2 is light brown. 3 is orange. Not a nice combination.

That's how i feel, Thanks for asking.

الأربعاء، 29 أكتوبر 2014

Hey there, Delilah

It was the Eid eve; our "anniversary"
He called, and i swallowed a lump that got stuck in my throat
Counted how many times it rung before I gathered my guts to answer
It has been 8 months since we last talked
He said "Hello", after a slight pause
And was tryinna sound poised
But I could still hear a tremor in his voice
Just like the first time
And just like the first time
I smiled to myself, shaking my head

He has no idea, does he ?

He doesn't know of all the storms that happened within myself
He doesn't know what I've been doing
In the eternity during which I haven't heard from him
He doesn't know that I threw quite a tantrum
Throwing chairs and flipping tables in my mind saying that i'm going to shun
The slightest thought of that pri-.. man
I tried to forget how he sounded
To blur his face in my mind
It took me so long
Lots of patience
Tanks of confined tears
And mental jeers at my state
Heaps of crumbled papers
And drafted prates
But i did it in the end
By a careful scheme of self-discipline
I managed to not feel bitter when his name came up
And the butterflies in my stomach ceased to flap
When I saw him online on Whatsapp

I knew I didn't love him

My butterflies are disturbed when I'm hungry as well
That is not the reason I was so troubled and shaken
On that i'm not mistaken
I know I don't love him still
Only I was compelled and cornered by guilt
To plant a little seed in my heart and force it to sprout
Nurturing it with the false hopes I held
Hopes of denial turning to acceptance
Hopes of this nonexistent feel to somehow blossom in my heart
And turn into something real
Though I didn't love him
He awakened something in me
Made me believe in immaculate love
Made me feel beautiful with a ravishing tact
He's slapped my senses to awakening then stormed out of my life
And i had to deal with the wreckage alone
I missed...talking to him so much
But he was the one that walked away on his own
Why did he have to wait a century to call?
I know there is no obligation to stay in contact
We aren't even lovers
Nor best friends
Nor anything definable, in fact
He was just there shining from afar
Like the sun, and I, like the moon
Grave when he looked away
And bright when he smiled upon me
I needed him, and so i fluttered to my swoon
Like a firefly hovers towards a candle
To its doom
It's not the attention that i wanted, of that I'm fed a spoon every day
Do you ever love a person for how pure their soul is
And want to be in their presence for no exact reason?
To be in their presence at all times, but not at all within their embrace

Perhaps I'm just brazenly selfish

And he was too busy concealing his feelings
To read my eyes and realize
That his love breaks things in my chest
And when he calls,
He doesn't know that my thoughts go spiral
To the ends of the universe and beyond
In the few seconds of silence
During which he awaits me to respond

I said "Hey"

I don't even remember what we talked about
Probably some gibberish that doesn't make sense
A few giggles here and there
Completely random and ridiculous
But i was overjoyed
A bit taken aback at how i complicated things
But overjoyed, for some reason
"Was his voice always this thin ?", I chuckled
I missed this
Just like the old times
I missed...him
Until I realized that I could hear at the end of his lines
And between his pauses for breath
The things he wanted to say but didn't
The feels he wanted to convey but couldn't

Kindred spirit, why are you doing this ?

I gave up long ago, and let the flowers in my heart die
The garden of my feelings was left unattended it has long gone dry
So why are you still watering it with your unneeded care
Why are you still trying to fry my mental faculties by 
Your epic display of sly allurement
And your peculiar way of telling  me a thousand love poems
Without the need to utter a single statement ?

I'm trying not to notice
And I'm trying to summon the strength to feign ignorance
Because not knowing about all this
Is the best excuse I could ever find for acting so dense
Faking blindness
To the ocean of emotions trapped in your eyes 
And the shy, fidgety lips, wanting to smile
And end up flapping like a gull in the distance
Feigning deafness
To your trembling voice
The incoherent change
From whispers to squawks 
When you talk
The nervous laugh and the occasional lisps
Before cracking a stupid joke
When you see love as clear as the sun in a summer sky
As evident as a drop of blood on a plain of snow
As obvious as a pine in a field of rye
But you deny it
You reject it
Because it is what you have always sought
And didn't want to find
It is all what you ever wanted to have

But were too afraid to hold in your arms

To love is scary
Being loved is even more so

I said something about how it was nice catching up, and that i had to go
And I don't remember who hung up first, but i think it was I who did
For I wanted it to be over before I broke apart and started to yelp
Like a little child, not knowing what I wanted, but thinking that crying would help
Taking comfort on the shoulders of the silent listener
On the other side of the dead line..




الأحد، 26 أكتوبر 2014

Mein Kampf

My Struggle


Ever came to the conclusion that you are just a lousy human being ?

You could never get it right, this being alive business, by following the book
You try to occasionally improvise but you stumble miserably
While all the kids your age seem to have it all figured out
What they are doing with their lives and where their future lies
With their feet planted firm on earth
Well-adjusted to scuffle and mirth
Everybody else seems so natural at bonding
While all you are natural at is pressing against the wall
A plain flower of indifference
Making room for life to pass by
Sitting at the furthest seat in a banquet of hullabaloo
Standing by the door at a party, so no one will notice when you leave
The one content with listening
Just listening
Sometimes, you try to catch up with the conversation
But you soon realize it isn't what you'd rather be sipping
So you chew on the gum of observation
Until you get found out and forced into participation
"Why do you always look so sad?", they would throw in
I'm not sad, I'm just exahsuted
See, that's the struggle; gentlemen
To fit in and find your place in the buzzing beehive
In a crowd of different faces and distinct traces
It seems even harder to blend in

Tell me, sir, why is living such a drag ?

Couldn't everyone be perfect replicas of each other,
Thinking the same way, liking the same trends,
Catching the same kinda feels, and seeking the same ends ?
Wanting to talk and discuss ,expand and impress on the same questions ?
Wouldn't we live in a harmonious world then ?
A world where it is fine to look the other way while talking
When you don't want your eyes to betray
All the confusion and fray they are hiding
A world where you wouldn't find it troublesome to express
When your thoughts have gone astray
Because your audience would make an effort to read between the lines
And fill in the gaps in your breath
A world where it is acceptable to theatrically break down under the weight of stress
A world tolerant of the sudden, extended silence mid-conversations
And totally okay with frequent eye-contact
With the stranger setting across from you in public transportation

Do you sometimes wonder whether it is only you
Who thinks that way;
Doesn't anyone else wish that wanting to be themselves wasn't so constraining ?
Don't they secretly think that swimming with the flow is so tedious and draining ?
Perhaps it is true, we are all equally confused
And socially obtuse
We are all supposed to be in this together,
So why are they so good at pretending to fuse ?
"Was there a Life Hacks 101 class I missed ?", you think
Then what if I refuse to walk down the same path wearing the pair of shoes everyone took turns wearing?
What if I don't want to get out of my shell and participate ?

What if I want to embrace my pillow
And hide beneath my blankets, instead of going out there
And fake it
Instead of trying to bear with the pressure to adjust and adapt ?
The constant hammering at the back of my mind
To find a place to belong to, seeing how inapt I am
What if I don't mind doing my own thing
My own observations and metaphysical musings
Having my own sense of  sad humor
My own hematic genre of music
My own futuristic sense of fashion
Having my own bizarre interests, my own sit of  I Hate, and I Can Tolerate
Hiding a secret list of 100 Things To Do Instead Of Studying For A Test ?
Blending in with the background, drunk in my contemplation

What if I'm fine with being who I am even
If I'm an extra piece of a puzzle that came with the box
And didn't find a spot to hang on to ?

For, after all, what good did ever come out of
Forcing myself to assume a personality
To put on a mask for the sole purpose of gaining popularity
When at the end of the day, it's my face
That will disappear in the crowd of fakers
And it's my soul that is going to blend in the palette of mundane thinkers

And what if I decide that I'm so done being heartbroken ?
That it's high time to defend my originality
By taking defense
To barricade myself in a tower of seclusion
To content myself with the illusory win against life,
When I'm actually defeated and thrown into exclusion
A little birdie that didn't try to fly, was hindered by fear and couldn't leave the tree
Because the warm nest of my comfort zone was such a safe haven
A ship perpetually anchored at the dock, lest it hits a reef bed
On its way out to the vast ocean

Come, have you ever thought how absurd it is
To be so heartbroken and defeated by life in the first place ?
Even though you are still this young, and never left the nest ?
Even though, as they say, you couldn't have already seen
All the worst of this life, nor even the best ?
And that it is wrong to recoil back to your shell of solitude
After facing the first tempest?
And ever thought how your heart would look like
If you could cut open your chest this minute
While you are still breathing, and your heart beating ?
Oh, a maroon organ covered in veins
Constantly pumping life through your limbs and brain
A living entity

You might be wrong
Wrong

Maybe, it's just dead, cracked and rusty
Maybe it will all make sense, when you take a peak on the inside
Maybe there is something wrong with your heart
Maybe it is drenched in darkness and swart
And you can walk around, like the rest, you can breath and talk
But you can't fathom things properly; you have to force yourself to feel
The same way your lungs would forget how to breath on their own
And you have to forcefully suck air every couple of seconds
Until they remember and catch up with the reel

And maybe you know exactly why you are this way
That there wasn't a certain point in time where you started to crack
It's the little things that broke you to pieces, eventually
Like a bow, strained till its nocks kiss
And finally snapping in a violent counter
When it could handle no more stress

You don't have to experience a failed romance
To get your heart so wrecked
Disappointment does the trick
Disappointment in humans
In humanity
In life
In yourself
In everything
In nothing

Disappointment

Its weight is way heavier than any anchor out there
And its reality-check beats you to a plump
When you fall from the cliff of your romantic expectations
And hit the ground
Every lie is a dagger to the heart
Every mask unveiled is a nail planted in your chest
Every icy look from an ex lover
Every isolated nook in which your dark thoughts hover
Every unrequited sentiment you've bore

Is a bullet piercing through to your core