A Request

Over here
The time stops
In the wide corner from the cosmos,
The time stops
In domains that infinite
From doorsteps of shooting stars,
The time stops
Everywhere,
The time stops.
Then
The demonstrations follow in succession
From all sides
From all people
those who were born and died,
Those who were born
and are still alive,
And those who will be born,
Carrying candles
That spurt vermillion blood,
And the signs they tore
From the blue clearness of the Iraqi sky
Written on
"God"
Hasn't Iraq's ground had enough blood poured on?

Detroit

4/5/2004

My Prophet Mohammad

My Prophet Mohammad
My Prophet
In the end of the world
There
The pain spreads
A superstitious bird
The possessor of a long beak
Nay many beaks
Ignite our backs with kisses
And build their nests from Iraq's wounds.
...........
...................
My Prophet
I complain to you about this era's roosters
Their empty portfolios
Then where to escape
O Iraqi people.
...............
..................
Occupation or mobs
The same to me
Both of them
Devour Iraq's meat.
.............
................
There the orphan
Frizzed hair
Combed by hunger with words,
A child
His separated steps
Made him
Drawn dining-tables
From dates
Loaves
And water.

My prophet
We became full
From the killing
The belittling
And the murdering
With sin
Or without sin
The eyes vomited,
By your name we kill each other
Revenge each other
Fool each other
And by your name we abate each other's rights.

My prophet
Your good sons
Drowned
To their gills they sink,
And every night
When
The captains arrive
Or the vile people
Instead
Of licking their wounds
On their heads they step.

My prophet Mohammad
The principle
In all directions
Is a different color
A new dress,
Traveling dust
Covering the noses
And a breeze that riles the clearness of life.

My prophet Mohammad
On your path
My prophet
 We were left
Thus
As the moon is alone
We look at the sky without awe
We befriend the bloods
And the mortality
We melt in your love
And your flowing crawls in our souls
We reached you thus
Pearls
Our hearts are white
Like spadix of the date palm.
 

 Written and Translated by: Said Alwaely

 Date: 07 / 15 / 2006
 

A Mug of Water

A Mug of Water

Nude and slender
The dawn opens its eyes,
In-between its eyelids
A polar twilight,
A tremble...
Dangled
The sky's arms.
Fading,
Like the morning star,
A rhythm ...
On the flow of pains,
Vapor of the head
Loosens its ambush ...
The things are servile
Like the far away horizon…
Earth,
Like a blue drop of circumference
In the dark corner
Its light: the stars.
Centers
Come and go
Heavy blindness
Pervades the circumference,
And the dawn
Possessor of white hair
Emits his intestine's crowds
And gnaws the aim.
Dome Blue eyes
Dangles
From depth of the maze…
Eyelashes covered by branches,
Created Like the haze of canyons
And hide the secret.
An eternal desert
Golden cinctures
Dances in-between ear and ear
Its gray tail
The depth of circumference.
The summit of the patch slides
Like a surreal pole
And in a gelatinous cave
An earthy progeny lime
Like the tropic snakes Inhaling the fire.
And then for the vapor be
From coronation of a lie like a coronet!
But the truth
Like the air which we inhale,
Mug of a water Achromatic,
Taste,
And smell.
I hear the gulf under the rocks,
To sheathe my soul
In the veins of my bones,
I watch it slide
As a fish In the neck of a bird.

Written and Translated by: Said Alwaely