Monthly Archives: September 2012

Hotel room ..

In a leather bound elegance

proudly they declare

“We will make you feel at home” …

And I say …

It ain’t the tiniest bit like home..

 

Not with these incredible pillows

Or these milky creamy soaps

frantically leathery and slippery

Like all dashing hopes ..

And the diminutively bottled

fragrant shampoos, creams, gels …

Blah.. blah.. blah…..

With their narrowest necks..

 

And oh, the towels …

Folded towels,

hanging towels,

rolled up towels ,

face towels ,

hand towels,

bottom towels and

the wrap around the globe towels ..

and we are told

In an elegant card..

With calligraphic font,

“Throw on the floor if used” ..

This way you save our planet

You are green…

Who would do this at home ..

 

And this nifty brilliantly white

Scarecrows

The robe de chambre …

Of that you always have two ..

One for you

And one to scare your foes..

Or for a partner

If you have one of these ..

 

The disposable slippers

Also comes in pairs

Crispy as toast should be

I butter them and eat them

in my suitcase ..and

Instead, I pull my very own tired slippers

The ones which knows

How to confines to my toes

They lie there ….

-the slippers off course-

in the middle of the room

upside down .. objecting, I presume..

 

And I fetch my hairbrush

The one with the bristles laden

With my fallen hair and years

With the Familial touch

The one which is to me

Is sooo hooome ..

 

I invade the neatness of

The stretched bed sheets, breaking

The icy shell and dive

into a delusion

Finally feeling a tiny wee

Like home …

Nothing feels like home …

 

 

TarekOfCairo

The way ..

Words are

frigid stones

glacially telling as

.. they hurt

.. they block

.. they stone ..

I will cut a road

paved with these

silence ..

For you may one day

decide

to walk this way

gracefully…

back home..

 

TarekOfCairo

Taking a leap of faith ..

“Take no risk son”

Mother said

“I fear for you

from a deceitful fate”

 

The heat under my feet

The heaviness of the stillness

Itching on my sole

.. go..don’t wait ..

 

and behind these hills

and the unsettled clouds

Lies the temptation

Of a dream I create

 

So I depart

the recitation of certainty

and the suffocation of boredom

the overweight and

gruelling waste

 

With a baby’s shaky feet

and a gritty heart

Fearless and doubtless

With tiny steps or even a mighty fall

 

Life is certainly a prize for

A leap of faith

 

TarekOfCairo

The brightest star …

I am sore from stretching

to be as tall

Tired of listening to your music

and dreaming ….

I should too

 

Tired of painting ..

the unfinished painting …

Just to catch up with you

I want even to run after you

Surely you will outpace me ..

Poor me..

 

Put never tiresome I shall be

of looking up

Seeing you … in the stars

The brightest star of all

 

And never tiresome I shall be

from being

proud of you ..

 

TarekOfCairo

Titanic ..

The bad wind of the day

carried my sail ..

Into the loveliest night

 

“Do you trust me?

…I trust you jack “

 

“….Where to Ms..?

…To the stars!”

 

“You are so stupid Rose..

….Why did you do that ? ..”

 

 

“Rose Dawson”

A name for a legacy ..

 

Thats where it starts

Thats where it ends ..

 

Inspired by a day of hurtful comments and a “Titanic” end …
TarekOfCairo

“Something in flying alone”

There is something in flying alone…
Not a driver .. nor a  road… just… the “go”….

It’s not that I do it often…
It’s not that I love it..

To be ..I mean ..on my own…
But there is magic in piano tunes..
There is  zest in flying alone…
To my comfort zone…

It always starts… at night…
Me with conspiring car …
Fleeing..feeling just…bright…

It is not that I do it often
It’s not that I love it..

But even when I am far..and right..
There is guilt in being alone..
I am just a wasted kite…..

If I hit a sunset or sunrise..
I just cry …yes ..really cry..

Its not that I do it often..
It’s not that I love it..

But here… I don’t know if I live or …die…
So I weather..and cry…
There  is something in flying alone…
I just can  not… lie…

The movie.remains the same…
So why….for god sake..

I still feel the words slamming my face..

And why I still carry sorrows in my suitcase…
It’s not that I do it often..

It’s not that I love it..
But it seems a habit..

to  collect  the… pain..

There is ashes  in flying alone..
and I have to damp them… somewhere..

TarekOfCairo

I am reblogging this poem as it felt appropriate .. once again ..

Standing Ovation to you …

Standing ovation

to you

and you

and you

and you …..

and for Barbara Streisand

1993 concert

and my 3D projector

and my cuddly sofa..

For the ignitor

The shoulder I stand on

For the tapping hand on my own

For making

Flu-day..

The busiest day

In my blog .. ever..

and Barbara sings

” you don’t bring me flowers any more”

Yet,

Love rained

all Over ..

In the loveliest day

of fever

and I am blessed with

my very own

Little river ..

TarekOfCairo

Life plans : one minute sketch

A one minute Ipad sketching about my life plans , evoked by this quote in a fellow blogfriend blog … recoverythrumylens  and here is the original post in christainnewyork ..

In bed with me …

Surrendering my body and day
to the longing of an imperceivable lover
Passionately devouring me
When I am hopelessly feeling low ..

 

Warm beaten flesh
Wrinkled drenched quilt
Scene of the battle field of
The shivering me and foe

 

Bones cracked,
muscles wrenched
laboured breath of groaning aches
No joy in bed shared with flu …

 

TarekOfCairo

The 5 miles Zone …

Someone asked me why I don`t answer my phone… well.. quite simply I don`t want …

Do you remeber the good old times of the big fat Beatle-like dial phone… It will sit in a corner somewhere minding its business.. never it ran to wake me up or follow me in the streets…