I think of women,
Ancestors of my sisterhood,
Centuries before my birth,
How they were oppressed and suppressed,
For their sex, race or ideals,

I think of women,
Who struggled with infirmities,
Who were called crazy,
Branded witches or harlots,
For their desire to be independent,

How would I have fared in their eras?

Those stifled out by society,
Those hushed by authority,
Artists and dreamers alike,
Punished for their fight,
Shunned for their light,

The Sounds of Loneliness

voices whispering memories
of times long forgotten
dancing with fading shadows
in nightmare dreams
no touch of love
no recognition

walking through empty rooms
the cold side of the bed
no breath to warm your neck
no arms to hold you
from your fears.

the dread
that morning silence bringa
and a heart that sinks
ever deeper
each day

Gobekli Tepe

‘Neath layers of barren Turkish soil it rises like a dream
built by folk who had no tools or even pots of clay
older than the Pyramids or Stonehenge, it would seem,
another ancient mystery that challenges today

pockets of night
follow my legs
around the leap
of living dawn

I am a nerve
metropolis shaking
like the cries of
birds

the beads of drips
descending through
the veins of black
scrawling forth and
out with waiting buds

a ruin of thoughts
peel memories
behind faded
brilliance

I have come
to dab graffiti
worship

ghost artists

knocked out ideals
sulking
and purring
prowling principles

The diplomats make one last try
just as they have since ancient Greece
so blood won't spill nor bullets fly
in vain attempt to maintain peace

And even so, the plans are made
generals meet in their dark lair
where there's neither sun nor shade
troop casualties are assumed there

Machines and men are moved in place
both side joining in the race
strategists put marks on maps
talks are abandoned, frail peace..snaps

السهاد

آه ياليل مااطولك
سئمت منادمتك , فما اطمعك؟
حتى النجوم في مشكاتها
باتت بعيدا عن مضجعك

Ah how long
is my night
and draggy.
I wonder
if anyone
really joys its
company.
Even the stars
in their niche
roosted away
from its bed.
----------------------------
Ah! How long you tarry my night
though of little fun and delight.
and it adds to my pains and stress
that no stars slept close to your recess

Betwixt the
Shimmering constellations
And the
Black pines

Inside its eye
The face of a thousand midnights

Sharpening its talons
On the cheeks of the fair

And slake their thirst
On the darkening air

hunger realms
a trickle wind

displace me soul
the darkness grows
stretched like a shadow
curious

the muses frolicked
drawing wealth
from pleasures cup

the garden stars emerge
to cut the dreams

imagination cries out
in her hour

searching for binary
causes
revolutionary
pauses

If you're an adult
or a child,
 civilized or
living in the wild,
let mother nature
guide, nurture and lead,
then all you need
is to imitate
what she would
naturally
 illustrate.

God has always
educated mothers
  what they need
 to educate. 

I heard the sky whispering, it used the trees, their tips,
blown by breezes softly, only I could hear, so near,
the dawn was coming soon, to walk the heavens into day,
on tip toe calmly, the air was waiting quiet, expectant,
like the still of those at prayer in a great cathedral of the blue.