Pumpkins carvings

Tastes like a potato
this pumpkin
carved with a strong arm

an iron fist
that knows how to manage
a kitchen and three children

Drifting in the wrong waters

How many times, would I have had to die
because my ship drifted to where I didn't ask

tornado at sea,
I, am the difficult storm ahead

how many have to go, so I could feel
the wind as a brother

on my neck,
because my ship drifted to the wrong waters

Freedom is restricted

close your mouth
put tape over its corners

tie your legs together
with a stone, send it down a lake

put your hands to other use
than typing on a keyboard

avert your eyes
from areas marked with "caution"

cut all buddings of feather
growing between your shoulders

this is natural, a redefinition
of you being free to be restricted too.

Flights,Birds, Skies

There is something the jailer does not know;
you can take the birds down from the sky

yet you cannot take the sky away from its inhabitants
it stays in them, because it has always been home

this is the sense of wings, there's a new power
that is given by virtue of the space that opens up

to contain the power of the flight
once taken, like a release, like freedom is to life.

this is art

watermark, is what's left
a splotch
onto dark paper

prolonged reunions

Your hug is a prolonged reunion
that waited five years
over bird-sat wires

heat and cold

how to do deflect from cold?
try a sheet made of wool

how do you deflect from heat?
try a bit of water for better measure

how do you keep a heart warm?
try small things

how do you keep a heart cold?
try the wrong statements

who wins against time?

Who wins against time, 

if I leave the minute to look backward 

at your body walking into a lit room

no one, 

I hear your laughter 

commending what I have left of bravery 

that I have loved a ghost 

dedicated my life to the shadow of a star 

because it was easier to be in the dark 

morbid, I know 

but for some reason I think of you

young and raw, like a new apple left to nature

no one wins against time

it is the only race 

I have been running for years. 

a renewed faith

for miss B

You had a spark
a touch, that's always been different- you tell me

I shudder at the faith you give me
one I lost when I last saw you.

protection, speech, silence

This is the notion that is left for us
there is no protection for those who speak
no more for those who are silent,
what then, do we do with our mouths?

Jericho, a day out

The walls tumbled down
for too proud of kings
walk over their nations,
even in the desert

Haifa

We return, once more
to where we belonged,
after stealing an orange from a holy site.

the speed of lightning

You don't return emails
yet I am aware,
you are gravitating towards me
with the speed of lightning

Too valuable, these tributes

They have fallen, young jasmine
it is not yet spring- we say
gone too young, those who die for us to live.

All else at once

You only appreciate your back when you stand

only look into the ability to breath when you are wrapped with a blanket

this is the short contradiction you are mostly yourself when you stop being 

all else at once. 

I want to paint you a story

I could have painted you a story
in the colors and sounds available to my hands
but my paint-brush is broken and it is expensive to replace the color
with a simile.

I could have made a story sparkle on your skin
leave you with the effect of sunlight over a lake
I want to leave you with a story
that comes from nature to find you when you want to just hide.

it follows me, this flight

It follows me
the way she speaks about love
like birds taking flight into the Amazons

here, fell my head

Here, between two sheets
fell my head as I crawled out of my mother's womb
fresh of knowledge, skin white like a lily
eyes, brown like hazel and no hair
here, fell my head when I was born
and there was gas in my lungs before I had the words
for here I was born, would this city not hold my falling body?

checkpoint in the rain

The sunrise is different when you are on a mission;

the clouds seem to give way for enough beauty 

to offer other than rain and darkness, a possibilty

silver and gold lined, for the eyes 

yet as you walk or sit 

you know it is bound to happen

long lines of cars listless 

like a leftover loaf

inside, screaming children who want to run 

women restlessly switching between radio stations 

men nodding behind the windshield 

and you, between the bus chair and the novel in your lap 

there is something about forced waiting

like there is about rain, it pains the head harder 

a tinted shade of purple 

nothing happens, no one moves and yet

time is happening; 

life swinging and swishing like raindrops 

whizzing between the points of destiny

A to B, B to A, where there should never be a space 

to be forced to stop 

behind a checkpoint in the rain.

Too many eyes

stare at you when you try to work
how the work can be set up
like building blocks in music
how he looks ahead, disheartened
to the sounds of music forming from your heart
how you turn, there are the eyes, the ears
the years made up in a time bubble
how we learn by giving and taking away
same skills we gain, since childhood
just magnified day to day.