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

a country of 3adi, normal

Adi', is the way we spell normal
like it doesn't hurt to breathe at times
Adi' is the longest wait before going home
not because the traffic is hell but because
the sea of cars isn't moving. Adi, is the youth
wasting hours of their lives struggling to be
clearheaded enough to take a jump. Adi, is a country of normal
where everything and anything is of itself a story
Adi, is the country where death walks hand in hand
with life, like an old bride and a groom.
Adi is the abnormality, of getting used to normal.

going back home

I am finally back 

you write to me 

I slip between sleep 

and waking to ask you 

what has been the most apparent 

difference you've seen over 

my body, the trees or the clear skies 

I hear you say 

the air, its different

smells like my childhood and your perfume. 

Chores

The pan's lifted out of the fire
no burnt, the food filling stomachs

the sheets dry with the tinge
of the sweat that lined them for days

the boots all sparkling clear
of the dusk walked over in the streets

there is so much order in the house
where does this silence come from, then?

Strike

It is all closed, the storefronts
the streets, all void of people

it is all kept at bay
the cooking, the school-boys running with burdened bags

it is all left behind
the tiresome, slow hours of work

it is all closed off, striking
except the windows to my heart, open.

A game of hands: rock, paper, scissors

it used to be a childhood play
that my hands would tell
your destiny

Read the rest here: https://crevice.ro/a-game-of-hands-rock-paper-scissors/

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.

minimal life

Try looking at the things you keep
unlike humans, you are able to discard
items that are shelled-out

fished from other people's pockets
or dreams, broken up stones
end of evenings, boring conversations

try extracting the old
out with it and in with shiny things
against the rule of your head

try looking at things you keep
to add onto you, like boulders
on your shoulders 

has this autumn started yet?

Has it started, a season like autumn
hot like summer, heavy on the heart
why then, does all this death look like a joke?

it has then started, the cycle of regeneration
fitting into us, a skeleton into the trees
like finger for wooden tables

does it have to make sense?
this destiny, this end
this vacuum?

citywide

I have been thinking about this word for three days now
how can something be wide as the city

yet small enough to contain a sack of old marbles
crossing the pit where they were thrown

I have been thinking about this word for three days now
how a thing can multiply and find itself similar

in cities that wear different capes, husky
brawling, windy or plain desert like

I have seen people describe cities
like they would a lover

with soft eyes, with skin for stones
but I have seen cities eroding people

like lime to acid
like our city to our heads

this is a citywide gathering
for town-wide hearts.

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

dandelions, or mixed names

what do you call it,
she blinks at me

the flower that you puff
the one for the horses

we call it horse flower
what do you call it?

a dandelion, with mixed names
clear genes to hold its spine up.

privilege

is to think with deep considerations
that none of your shoes fit you
when the children of your neighborhood walk the streets barefoot

in translation

For Z, the better poet

Your words have despair
painted over them like a flag

all I have to do is be a vessel
that carries you across to the other side

with clear thought patterns
copy and paste your despair

over the towns and trees you've cut
with the edge of words

all I have to do is be the eagle
that looks with a sharp eye

on the nuances of what you don't say
does it make sense to paint the desert sand blue?

this too, is  vain, that poetry speaks
better truths than drunks

the truth is, in poetry we are both drunk
enough to reveal our biggest fears

etched with the sense that I lack
this very moment I am addressing

a body of words bigger than mine
washed out like a sea of treasures

fished out like the ways we spell
Baher, the sea, big and understanding of us both

this is what it is like to be someone's despair vessel;
attempt to cover the holes the wind insists on getting into with only bare hands.

a cold birthday

Eyes drooping with liner,

Cigarette at hand and her birthday was very cold

Spent moving between the rock and the harder place;

I haven’t been home- she thinks

Because home’s sunshine was the answer

sleepless in your own bed

Much misery happening in your head
it is a shame
you lay sleepless in your own bed, every night

Bethlehem, a visit

Bethlehem,
here, He was born- a child
there, His Mother breast-fed him, on the road
while our mothers recluse to homes, in comfort.

a theater difference

There was a time when people got out of the theaters
having memorized the music, the lyrics,
that was before the theaters closed down
sealed with red wax.

longing for the country

let my country banish me

I need longing

outside of its fangs

A free weekend morning

Pour the coffee to your taste
three thirds black and blonde, this is how we refer to the bean

wait for the sun to clear out behind the clouds
it had risen while you were sleeping

dream big and believe in the beauty
of the rain as it drops past your window

don't think of it as loneliness
think of it as freedom to tell another tale

take time out to learn how your body
curves willingly into a dance of its own

a free moment is rare in this fast age
just take it slow.