Friday, September 16, 2016

I speak of gazelles

ع كتر ما طلع العشب بيناتنا بيرعى الغزال"- طلال حيدر"
" For as long as the grass has risen between us, the gazelles can graze"- Talal Haidar


And the grass has gone long, 
an inch between my calves 
irritating this greenery
I see around me

there have been no gazelles to graze 
to ease the sight of the fields 
coloring over the eminence 
of green 

I said I hated green, on me at least 
no blouses, no careful consideration 
of the affects of paranoia on a hushed 

the shepherds have gone home 
to warm beds and women who keep 
the sheep and the children 

only I am left at the foot of the valley


People speak of languages 
like two gazelles jumping from a bank 
to the other, careless to the water 

no one wants to wade out 
your legs would feel heavy with the weight
taken down, compromised 

this terror of words taking over 
the feed of the miles, the stupid things 
we can no longer share 
a re-heated cup of coffee

desperate single Valentines with no red
vowed like an eternal decision 
to deactivate a language 
let it die in your brain

this identity


He asks if noble causes 
can lead to a drink with a woman 
who is graced with short legs 
like a child's, she works on her strength 

test the limits, she raises her head
raises an eyebrow, horns, Khal filled eyes
No, she says. It is simple 
how quickly rejection turns into silence 

silence turns into arid, odd-shaped 
half-written letters that are addressed 
to no one, to the vacuum
that surrounds us 

we call air, this space we cannot explain 
she has answers this time 
but maybe next time, he should wait 
before he opens his mouth 

maybe timing indeed is good for growing wild grass


I am struggling with thoughts of gazelles 
left out in the storm
my idol was a deer
doe and child 

narrating what I couldn't carry 
another way of thinking
falling diagonally, the minutes
mixed with cool water, like rum

downed only in the festive seasons
for the long hours of summer I have briefly 
left behind in a locker 
given one key over and lost the other 

to unthinkable roads, things I would never do 
again, had I been able to go back and count the hours
as they come one after one, 
a lie after the other 

here I am with gazelles, grass unmoved, long and all I can think of is 
the gradation of green in your eyes.

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