Blog Archives
“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 ..
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
The tale of Cadmium S. Red
Lolo and the Porcelain fish
A blob of paint
her tube says
Cadmium S. Red
Hanging to the bristles
of a round brush
helplessly wondering
where will it end
at the graveyard of dying hues
washed with turpentine
knife scrapped to the bin
or a second life begins
In the lips of a porcelain fish
or at a delicate petal
of a valentine rose
TarekOfCairo
TarekOfCairo 