Five years later, I am back to square one. What a fool to think a month with her would end up somewhere on the dusty shelves of my memory. My craving speaks otherwise.
For sweet melodies remain merciless, as they touch my old wound and bend me. They pluck on the chords of my insecurity, and leave me stripped of my walls, an easy prey to be ravaged by nostalgia. I set aside my worries of the day, and sober up to an old photograph, which makes my heart leap with a strange blend of joy and sorrow, deviced to remind me of the dream that I once let go.
I surrender to the weight of the beautiful memory, and indulge my deprivation with a drawing. I realize that the need for this emotional fix is far more powerful than the sketch that will be. So I succumb and bring my pad and charcoal sticks that i have long forgotten. I lose myself to the melody and make my first marks. That trace of charcoal hugging her face reveals what love i tried time and again to burry with other names. I curse myself as I blend the shades and shadows with my finger tips, knowing that this is as close as I will ever get to touching her face.
All the pedestals have been struck down, and all the flaws revealed. All the years have been spent chasing her, and chasing her away. All the routes have been taken, and they all bring me back to her. My tears run free. No use holding them back now.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Body In Dim Light
The snow has fallen in due time.
It's your call to strip down,
naked of the useless fabric that you've put on.
It's your call to lay down by the fireplace,
glowing, magnificent and extremely bare.
Listen carefully to the wood cracking under the force of heat
to gather what you will have to endure under me.
It's a fine line between anticipation and apprehension,
and you have to walk it towards me,
with your eyes closed, your feet denied of all protection.
And when your curves get near, and yield to the warmth,
know that their pride is lost,
and can only be restored by fingers firmer than the fist of fate.
You see, the snow has fallen cold with grief
that calls upon your panting breasts, in need of my attention
to calm them down, then ravish'em away
and leave them tossed and exhausted
and begging for it all over again.
(written in April 2008)
It's your call to strip down,
naked of the useless fabric that you've put on.
It's your call to lay down by the fireplace,
glowing, magnificent and extremely bare.
Listen carefully to the wood cracking under the force of heat
to gather what you will have to endure under me.
It's a fine line between anticipation and apprehension,
and you have to walk it towards me,
with your eyes closed, your feet denied of all protection.
And when your curves get near, and yield to the warmth,
know that their pride is lost,
and can only be restored by fingers firmer than the fist of fate.
You see, the snow has fallen cold with grief
that calls upon your panting breasts, in need of my attention
to calm them down, then ravish'em away
and leave them tossed and exhausted
and begging for it all over again.
(written in April 2008)
Oblivion
The deep hole on the sidewalk was no less guilty of her fall than the thoughts she was carrying in her head. How was she to know what a prophet sounded like? All she had was a telephone line hijacked by the static of her own judgement. She knew she couldn't face up to the conversation; she hung up.
The deep hole on the sidewalk was no accident. Had she answered her caller, he would have told her to watch her twenty seventh step. Better, he would have given her a different route altogether. But it scared her that he knew too much, and she, too little. It was more like her to run. It unfailingly distanced her moments of truth and brought her to where memory and imagination conveniently blended into one another.
The deep hole on the sidewalk offered no land lines, and had no reception. Should a prophet call again, she must dig herself out to answer.
(written March 2008)
The deep hole on the sidewalk was no accident. Had she answered her caller, he would have told her to watch her twenty seventh step. Better, he would have given her a different route altogether. But it scared her that he knew too much, and she, too little. It was more like her to run. It unfailingly distanced her moments of truth and brought her to where memory and imagination conveniently blended into one another.
The deep hole on the sidewalk offered no land lines, and had no reception. Should a prophet call again, she must dig herself out to answer.
(written March 2008)
Mirage
It wasn't a desert where i could soak up the sun, nor bay the moon. It was one of mirages, all deceptive and volatile. All but one; one that i sat down with and talked to, and in later hours, wrote about.
To the one who appears out of nowhere,
and disappears by what feels like light years,
so that her return will always bring back a stolen smile.
To the one with a fascination for music, and he who plays it.
and food. and wine. and cheese.
and the lovely times of ease, without papers to write,
nor diaries to lose.
To the irony of fate that brings us here from a familiar place,
to meet, only a fortnight out of synch.
To the one whose lack of grace is comfort,
and monkey business is indulgence,
and whose parallel is hard to find.
I am happy you exist.
(written Febuary 2008)
To the one who appears out of nowhere,
and disappears by what feels like light years,
so that her return will always bring back a stolen smile.
To the one with a fascination for music, and he who plays it.
and food. and wine. and cheese.
and the lovely times of ease, without papers to write,
nor diaries to lose.
To the irony of fate that brings us here from a familiar place,
to meet, only a fortnight out of synch.
To the one whose lack of grace is comfort,
and monkey business is indulgence,
and whose parallel is hard to find.
I am happy you exist.
(written Febuary 2008)
The Dance
I don’t want you to ask yourself too many questions
Questions will get you lost; they will get you nowhere
And I don’t intend to urge you out of your comfort
Comfort is hard to keep, if it even bothers to come around.
But there is a thing or two you should do
Take that old walk we barely got used to
And make your steps slow, and quiet, and steady
And count down from a ridiculous number
Say five hundred and twenty five thousand or so
Make your way towards where your heart tells you I may be
And when it’s the eighth step before the last
Send out your arm and ask me to take those steps with you
It won’t take us long to mix our feet
Or pace our trot to your heartbeat
And when the steps are down to three
We’ll plan them well And hope to God they last an eternity
Coz comfort is hard to keep, now that it’s come around.
(written September 2007)
Questions will get you lost; they will get you nowhere
And I don’t intend to urge you out of your comfort
Comfort is hard to keep, if it even bothers to come around.
But there is a thing or two you should do
Take that old walk we barely got used to
And make your steps slow, and quiet, and steady
And count down from a ridiculous number
Say five hundred and twenty five thousand or so
Make your way towards where your heart tells you I may be
And when it’s the eighth step before the last
Send out your arm and ask me to take those steps with you
It won’t take us long to mix our feet
Or pace our trot to your heartbeat
And when the steps are down to three
We’ll plan them well And hope to God they last an eternity
Coz comfort is hard to keep, now that it’s come around.
(written September 2007)
A lil bi' o' politics
In all honesty, i haven't been keeping with egyptian politics as much, and whenever i do, it's some story that made headlines like the one below, so they are bound to be bad news. oh, unless of course it's the retirement of our government.
i don't know Gamal's agenda. he might be one of the more charismatic candidates available. the way i see it, and i may be wrong, is that because the national party has been monopolizing the rule for so long, i doubt that other parties actually have the right connections or approach to improve egypt's situation all around. that said, i feel that there are some latent voices within the national party that need to be heard, and feel that it's ok for the one party to have different views and negotiate them until the best one succeeds to make it into a popular decision. i may be too optimistic if i wish for more than one party to share the rule-- that would in a way be ideal, but i don't feel that our political parties have shown enough maturity to handle such a co-op.
in the last presidential election, mubarak "won" the popular vote, and even if the votes have been tampered with, the contestants were a bunch of puppets. i have no idea whether or not that was purposeful. Gamal, much like Obama, can get easily caught up into self-promotion and falls in the cracks of controversial issues he's confronted with, and soon you'd see him stuttering to the safety of agreeing with the status quo. sometimes he reverts to the popular political way out: to digress ansering a question that has never been asked. politically, i doubt he can do otherwise right now, given that he's under his father's wing, so even if he had different views or better intention for the people, he wouldn't be able to vocalize them publicly. unless of course he has the balls to overthrow his father's rule, which happened in Qatar and allowed media as bold as Al Jazeera network to survive. but i'm almost sure you're not going to be reading about Gamal overthrowing Husni in this lifetime.
the problem with egypt, when it comes to the rule, is that one ruling agent (the government) is not practically monitored by other agents (the judicial system, the media, etc), even though this may be what the constitution says. the attempts to do so are quickly suffocated by heavy military presence and raising red flag of treason and betrayal of what's patriotic and in the best interest of Egypt (sounds familiar? the Bush administration used to pull out that flag pretty often). The strive for power comes with many promises that are either forgotten or found too hard to fulfill given the already existing corruption. besides, the nature of politics, anywhere, mutates the politicians into self-protecting carnivores that are too consumed into their own survival and forget the original reason of being given the authority which they are. no one president or one official can change things on his own. not even the prime minister. but each official has enough inertia to cause some stir, the baby steps that are essential to change the big picture. interestingly, facebook fulfilled the baby-steps prophecy, because the individual voices of frustrated young egyptians started to conglumerate into a national movement opposing the status quo, or so says the article below.
in egypt, i don't feel that we have attained the level of professionalism about any industry so that we regard work as simply work, including governing a nation. things tend to get personal, and a critisizm is usually seen as an insulting challenge that jeopardizes the official's history of achievements. so the official usually takes it upon himself to shut up those voices of critisizm, not simply out of mere corruption, but largely because it creates dissonance between the image he wants to project vs. the image that is being urged by his critics. the same scenario takes place in the typical one-man show business, in advertising, in the grocery store, in academia, in the supreme council of antiquities... you don't see a lot of feedback boxes where you can rate the service around here. there aren't as many reviews in your career history, and meetings are often about what has already been decided, not for the sake of brainstorming. so these are all really atomized versions of a monarchy. one man decides, all rest concede. the more successful prototype is that of Al Shura, the parliament, the house of commons, the congress, the board of trustees, the round table where the decision is arrived at by contemplation of different, sometimes opposing, members who are all just as good and just as powerful, and where the leader's role is that of a chief executive, not a chief executioner.
so it boils down to a management problem, deeply rooted in our models of education, in how things should be, and how we ought to think and challenge others' thoughts, and how we can express ourselves and remain politically correct or at least be diplomatic. And most importantly, it's a problem rooted in how we ought to listen. I don't see any debate classes around my schools. the only model of a co-op was the student union, which at best was a sterile version of a typical government. i am talking about elementary schools where values and models can be easily fostered at an early age. the only glimpse of some real co-op takes place on university grounds, and then sadly, it's all polluted with egos and the thirst of competition and winning, without any true sense of responsibility. i remember how when in the american university in cairo, the student union "lost" 25,000 egyptian pounds (at the time $5,600), and how students got so sucked up in acting as UN officials that they believed themselves and started bossing other students around. All symptoms of early signs of a good ol' third-world government fulfilled.
i don't know Gamal's agenda. he might be one of the more charismatic candidates available. the way i see it, and i may be wrong, is that because the national party has been monopolizing the rule for so long, i doubt that other parties actually have the right connections or approach to improve egypt's situation all around. that said, i feel that there are some latent voices within the national party that need to be heard, and feel that it's ok for the one party to have different views and negotiate them until the best one succeeds to make it into a popular decision. i may be too optimistic if i wish for more than one party to share the rule-- that would in a way be ideal, but i don't feel that our political parties have shown enough maturity to handle such a co-op.
in the last presidential election, mubarak "won" the popular vote, and even if the votes have been tampered with, the contestants were a bunch of puppets. i have no idea whether or not that was purposeful. Gamal, much like Obama, can get easily caught up into self-promotion and falls in the cracks of controversial issues he's confronted with, and soon you'd see him stuttering to the safety of agreeing with the status quo. sometimes he reverts to the popular political way out: to digress ansering a question that has never been asked. politically, i doubt he can do otherwise right now, given that he's under his father's wing, so even if he had different views or better intention for the people, he wouldn't be able to vocalize them publicly. unless of course he has the balls to overthrow his father's rule, which happened in Qatar and allowed media as bold as Al Jazeera network to survive. but i'm almost sure you're not going to be reading about Gamal overthrowing Husni in this lifetime.
the problem with egypt, when it comes to the rule, is that one ruling agent (the government) is not practically monitored by other agents (the judicial system, the media, etc), even though this may be what the constitution says. the attempts to do so are quickly suffocated by heavy military presence and raising red flag of treason and betrayal of what's patriotic and in the best interest of Egypt (sounds familiar? the Bush administration used to pull out that flag pretty often). The strive for power comes with many promises that are either forgotten or found too hard to fulfill given the already existing corruption. besides, the nature of politics, anywhere, mutates the politicians into self-protecting carnivores that are too consumed into their own survival and forget the original reason of being given the authority which they are. no one president or one official can change things on his own. not even the prime minister. but each official has enough inertia to cause some stir, the baby steps that are essential to change the big picture. interestingly, facebook fulfilled the baby-steps prophecy, because the individual voices of frustrated young egyptians started to conglumerate into a national movement opposing the status quo, or so says the article below.
in egypt, i don't feel that we have attained the level of professionalism about any industry so that we regard work as simply work, including governing a nation. things tend to get personal, and a critisizm is usually seen as an insulting challenge that jeopardizes the official's history of achievements. so the official usually takes it upon himself to shut up those voices of critisizm, not simply out of mere corruption, but largely because it creates dissonance between the image he wants to project vs. the image that is being urged by his critics. the same scenario takes place in the typical one-man show business, in advertising, in the grocery store, in academia, in the supreme council of antiquities... you don't see a lot of feedback boxes where you can rate the service around here. there aren't as many reviews in your career history, and meetings are often about what has already been decided, not for the sake of brainstorming. so these are all really atomized versions of a monarchy. one man decides, all rest concede. the more successful prototype is that of Al Shura, the parliament, the house of commons, the congress, the board of trustees, the round table where the decision is arrived at by contemplation of different, sometimes opposing, members who are all just as good and just as powerful, and where the leader's role is that of a chief executive, not a chief executioner.
so it boils down to a management problem, deeply rooted in our models of education, in how things should be, and how we ought to think and challenge others' thoughts, and how we can express ourselves and remain politically correct or at least be diplomatic. And most importantly, it's a problem rooted in how we ought to listen. I don't see any debate classes around my schools. the only model of a co-op was the student union, which at best was a sterile version of a typical government. i am talking about elementary schools where values and models can be easily fostered at an early age. the only glimpse of some real co-op takes place on university grounds, and then sadly, it's all polluted with egos and the thirst of competition and winning, without any true sense of responsibility. i remember how when in the american university in cairo, the student union "lost" 25,000 egyptian pounds (at the time $5,600), and how students got so sucked up in acting as UN officials that they believed themselves and started bossing other students around. All symptoms of early signs of a good ol' third-world government fulfilled.
The Head Speaks
The thought that woke you up.
The itching part of your head.
The girl that wasn't by your side.
And the one that was instead.
The shower you postponed.
The breakfast you wish you had.
The ride you knew you'd miss.
And the run that broke your sweat.
The promises you made yourself.
The career that lies ahead.
The places you've never been.
And the diary you never kept.
The itching part of your head.
The girl that wasn't by your side.
And the one that was instead.
The shower you postponed.
The breakfast you wish you had.
The ride you knew you'd miss.
And the run that broke your sweat.
The promises you made yourself.
The career that lies ahead.
The places you've never been.
And the diary you never kept.
Manhattan Thoughts June 16, 2008
I went to Pier 16 on the South of Manhattan island last night. People were dancing tango on the deck, and the beauty of it all was so forbidding because I am no where near a good dancer. So I stood there with my dancing shoes over my shoulder, watching the amorous bond that was on the faces of a number of couples (definitely not all of them; some get all mechanical about it). My eyes locked with a couple of girls who i could only speculate how happy they would make me in a fantasy world. One of them had her hair tied up in two little piggy buns like Amelie's Audery Toutou, but she had a more Eastern European face than a French/Mediterranean one. I felt defeated leaving the deck, not having danced at all. Three weeks to go on US soil, and then i have to restart my counter, yet again. should i take a few classes before i go, or should i avoid my legacy of terminating lessons once they start?
I try to focus on the here and now, but i always find myself living in the future, rendering my life rather diluted, and i am dreaming of the intensity that would fulfill and inspire me. If you're on netflix, there is a movie (instant play) called A Relationship in Four Days. I liked it. I wish it would happen to me, though i hope i'm not that prick of a guy. Another thought, i wish to film a movie like that. Somehow i feel i don't have the resources or connections; it's becoming very hard to do anything creative outside this laptop here without knowing more people, who to talk to and how to get things for cheap. But somehow it's also the procrastination in me.
I try to focus on the here and now, but i always find myself living in the future, rendering my life rather diluted, and i am dreaming of the intensity that would fulfill and inspire me. If you're on netflix, there is a movie (instant play) called A Relationship in Four Days. I liked it. I wish it would happen to me, though i hope i'm not that prick of a guy. Another thought, i wish to film a movie like that. Somehow i feel i don't have the resources or connections; it's becoming very hard to do anything creative outside this laptop here without knowing more people, who to talk to and how to get things for cheap. But somehow it's also the procrastination in me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)