Saturday, November 28, 2015

!داء مفاصل... حياة

تجتنب الوداع، يتعبها
يحيل حجابها شرنقة
تحتضن وجع طفلة
تخبئ شعلة إلى حين
بضع خفقات، شرنقة تتفتح
تغرق عيناها بالدموع
تسقي أربعينك معزية ولكن
جمر تحت رماد
شأنك دوما متمرد
إعجاز على إعجاز
عجب منك يا قلبي
رقصت حبست أنفاسي

Monday, August 10, 2015

روح معذبة

روح معذبة، روحان، أو ربما وعسى أكثر؟!
أمل أم ألم، سيان
متلازمة بشرية
مسافة فاصلة
طالت أم قصرت
لا فرق
يشعر بضيق
نفذ الهواء
يبكي، يشعر بارتجافة في صدره
نحيب صامت رطب
يحاول الصراخ
ما من جدوى
الفم جاف
متى هجرته الكلمات
علها تعبت هي الأخرى
يكتبها ليمحوها
يستدعيها ليطردها
قيمص أفكاره المشوشة
أي وطن عانقت فاعتنقها؟
لا يقوى على اللحاق بها
لا يريد
لا يسعي خلف وطن
تنتصب امامه فجأة
تبتلعه أفكاره والكلمات
تملأ فراغها بعذابه
بائسة تسعى لحرق المسافات
لخلق حيز وإن في الفراغ
روح معذبة

Thursday, June 25, 2015

The Beatles, Murakami and the Norwegian Wood

I have always adored the BEATLES. In their highs and ‘lows’, together or separated, they always sucked me into those unforgettable moments! With deeply hidden tender smiles that shy away from showing or in rocking bursting tears that tore me apart, memories they brought, memories they left are so dear to my heart. But this fellow guy, this Murakami, his 'Norwegian Wood' went far beyond.

Beatles version of “Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)” brings me all the lovely memories or at least rearranges my stage to keep on accumulating more!

“I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me
She showed me her room, isn't it good, norwegian wood?

She asked me to stay and she told me to sit anywhere
So I looked around and I noticed there wasn't a chair

I sat on the rug, biding my time, drinking her wine
We talked until two and then she said, "It's time for bed"

She told me she worked in the morning and started to laugh
I told her I didn't and crawled off to sleep in the bath

And when I awoke I was alone, this bird had flown
So I lit a fire, isn't it good, norwegian wood?”

Murakami’s 'Norwegian Wood' beats the record! It beats me with every other line, it fills me with all the pain and joy of the world, and blurs those lines that separate those worlds… it is my open book, my open wound, a festive for my heart, a riddle for my mind… but most of all, it is alarming!