Blog Archives

Egypt’s days of shame

The colour of blood

Is all red …

Spilled screaming

on our dawn

….

The flesh of burnt pride

Is all the same

Like the smell of hate

We both exhale

….

The chasm of void

Between us deeper

Than my stupidity

and your cruelty

….

your fingers hold mine

On the same knife

that stabbed us

into the same fate

….

Just as we were tortured

In the same jail that wore our graffiti

not so long, remember

if you dare

….

If we survived today

we will lie flat black eyed

Stretched on the cold asphalt

Facing the same blue sky

….

And if we die

We will hug each other

Stacked in the same grave

Peacefully gone ,

….

If love fails to unite us

today, Like every other day

In the history of shame

We are wastefully done

Just the same ..

….

TarekOfCairo

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The jungle .. الغابة

The beautiful photo is courtsey of my friend Robyn L.

سامقة اشجارها

تحيطني سيقانها

فكأني سجين غابة وارفة

أحس بحرِّها رغم زحامها

فأعجب كيف وأين ظلالها

فأمد بصري لعليائها

الي أذرع ملساء متنافره

من لهيب الشمس

تسن سنانها

الي عدو قد يكون انا ها هنا

فأعدوا في خلوها وخلائها

فلا انس في سكنها

ولا ظل يبدوا الا في بطنها

A wood like all

Imprisoned

Between the long legs

and the fallen stems

crack under my feet

The heat I feel

Makes me wonder

Shouldn’t there be

Plenty of shade

Eyes climb the trees

To the pointy bare beaming arms

Praying to the searing sun heat

Sharpening there teeth

Could that be , for me ..

Shocked I flee

As it came to me

The only shade here

Is down the soil

Deep under the trees

TarekOfCairo

Exit through the revolving door …

 

Paused

with wispy click

somewhere between an in and exhale

and I reckon you suppose ..

This time ..again.. that you can still

rewind and cope

 

I wish I had your keys of

Undo

delete

Restart

or Reset

 

But I am just a jailbird of the pause

Red suit , a number , a cell

a squeaky door

a tiny window

and a sign of

Exit  …….. well lit

 

But who sees ?

Or believes

What the sign

Suggests…

 

So once more

Predictably like a revolving door ..

The useless limbs and the careless dreams

pile in the dismal corner

Of defeat..

Waiting for a call

– I detest –

to rest ..

 

TarekOfCairo

 

 

 

My toolbox

 

 

Love, photography and poetry

Is all what I need ..

to fulfil my dream

For higher souls are up to the sacrifies

-and suffering- a dream needs

And lowly beings -chuckled in despair-

Can never succeed ..

 

Tarekofcairo