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

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

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 ..

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 day before a birthday …

 

Of all the raindrops
All the day lights
All the birthday gifts
and all the colorful boxes


Of All the smiles and
the love poems
Of all the hearty songs
and all the funny quotes


From all over the globe
and across all time zones
From deserts, plains, mountains and beaches…
From skyscrapers and roofless slums ..


Of all the cards in my mail ..
and the knocks on my heart..
The one I am really waiting for
Is not coming through …


And this is how I -helplessly- offend
nearly everyone I know in one go..
but still I remain gratefully thankful
To all of you  …

That I am sure …

TarekOfCairo

Behind my mirror ..

 

Behind this mirror

in my room, is your hiding place

I know,

when I look to my eyes

I am really seeing you ..

 

I know the names of your tears

coz I shed them with you

and I know when you

are laughing and smiling

coz my lips are brimful too

 

Do you feel me

I am just few inches or nearer

Believe me I feel your warmth

in me when I yearn and

touch the coldness of this mirror

 

 

I know you hear me

when I talk to you .. all the time ..

and when I miss your voice

I put my ear and heed

and I can hear you .. talk and rhyme ..

 

And I can always write to you

When all I have to do

is fog the mirror

and draw a heart

that I can see you .. through ..

 

and I know .. down deep in my sole

– and my mirror knows it too-

that you love me

Coz I love you

a million times more ..

 

TarekOfCairo

Freedom … By ” The Moon” ..

Very rarely I reblog here , for he simple reason that this is my hreat and mind … and as much as I admire , love and learn from my fellow blogger’s creative works , as much I would like to keep this place as me as possible … But , every now and then a photo , a poem or even a word becomes part of me no matter how much I resist it … And I am forced to share it with you … Because love is worth sharing even if it is not yours …

My dear Moon sneaked somehow into myself and took or seeded these lovely words ..

 I bleed LOVE , And so  the Word shall live

 

http://amoonfull.wordpress.com/2012/09/04/freedom/

 

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

Cinderella man ..

I have just watched ” Cinderella man” and ..

It has been sitting in my library for sometime waiting for me to watch. Knowing that its a boxers biography made it at the end of my list of movies to watch. I need a certain mood to watch a bloody nose and a flying tooth in slow motion. The night came , and I did … .. The twist of the tale is the struggle between despair, depression, defiance and the relation of the husband and wife ..and for me this is the movie … The wife … … and for her (and from her) I phrased these lines…

Two more teeth,

in my shaken hand

smeared with his blood and my tears

with a weary mind , I guess

how many he still wears ?

and I mutely scream

livid anger and pain

because  he wont smile for me … to see

and there is no comfort in tears

for his shattered jaw or

my fears

TarekOfCairo