As the sun sets you start to see the stars

During the night, you can see very bright Lights

Day, morning, you look at the Sky

As you walk around, you turn to spot Cat 

The animals turn around and points at a Basket 

The case has fruits, water and it makes you have Faith

The case is very sweet and fills you with Faith

As start to get up, you notice a shooting star

As you close your eyes, you drop your Basket 

You bend to pick it up, you notice Lights

You see that there was mirror inside, and reflection of a Cat

The animals appear to be dancing in the Sky

The mirror makes tiny piece of the Sky

The piece as scattered around, and you wonder if this a test of Faith

You collect the piece one by one until an perceive an illusion of a Cat

You look at it eye and notice a stars

It eyes burn with bright Lights

You put all the piece back into the Basket 

As you walk around and carry the Basket

You feel a something wet and look at the Sky

You notice that it dark and can’t find any Lights

You run towards the nearest tree and believe in your Faith

You hope that dark can be chase away by the stars

As you sit near the tree, you spot a shadow of a Cat

The shadow comes closer, and it appears to be a Cat

The animal crawls around your   Basket

You begin to draw on the dirt, a picture of a stars

You draw one by one, hoping it appears on the Sky

You want to go out and have Faith

As you sit around, you detect Lights

It appears to be a very strong Lights

It’s too much, that you turn to detect the Cat

You can’t find it and want to have Faith

You notice that there no Basket

You turn around and see a painting of the Sky

The painting appears to have stars

You find yourself at a bed and the room is decorative with stars and it covered in Lights

You see the room has painting of different Sky and notice a toy of a Cat

At you left, there a Basket  and a card that read “Have Faith”

To the public, we were married  

but behind closed doors, you beat me.  

Could not guarantee me safety  

your emotions often varied  

take a look at me now, buried,  

tucked under dirt, they’ll find me here.  

First slip up? Being insincere  

because the world knows you did it  

baby, you were so dishonest  

and you can’t make me disappear.

sunset

Amazing view 

Like a painters pallet 

colors blended, oh I wonder

Unique 

I walk past quickly taking a glance 

My old classroom still I stood 

New things stuck in a trance 

The sound of my loud old neighborhood 

The place I took my chance  

One day I knew I could 

A friendly scene to grow 

Not to forget my roots, though

Today I took all of my discouragement

And put it into a can

I set it up on the floor

And stepped on it until it was crushed

All my life I have been told

“You cannot …” 

Constantly discouraged,

Kicked to the side,

I don’t look like my mom or dad or brother

I am different so I do not belong

My parents didn’t go to college,

I didn’t get good grades,

“You won’t make it, just work a job you’ll hate”, they’d say

I believed in myself,

I took the discouragement 

And put it into a can

I crushed it until it was merely dust

Unlike the little engine that could,

I don’t think I can,

I know I can.

I love you, I hate you
How does one revert to love after years of loathing?
How does one show sympathy,
When one lacks empathy?

I hate you, I love you,
For better or worse, you are
who you are.

The thin line between love feels so thick,
You’re so sublime and repulsive
All at the same time.

But we’ve evolved,
It’s time to put past emotions to the side
So for the betterment of you and I,
I hate you, I love you.

He found himself timid around the other boys,

Why did he have Butterflies in his stomach?

Was it jealousy- the desire to be just like them?

Or was it something more idyllic?

Wear less ill-fitting jeans.

Try to talk without using your hands too much.

Maybe then it wouldn’t matter- because you will be just like everyone else.

Why was it that something so beautiful, has over time grown to become something you resented?

You forsake anything that resembles it.

It takes years- but every day an internal battle.

Like the colors of a rainbow- you remain set.

There are multiple variations of each intrinsic set of hues.

In the end, it doesn’t matter anyway.

You know what you truly are.

It all comes down to just naming it.

Even then, for the time being- you’ll still forsake it.

He, who, grew up, reminisces

What times he had as an infant

Through the rain with joy, passion

Now he views the rain as sorrow

Drops of drizzle, down the window

As each one passes, a tear falls

What’s the purpose of emotion?

To feel how you feel at your best,

To feel how you feel present day,

Like a lovely sunset, at rest.

livelier than ever before

with not much time left

she moves and wiggles

knowing he could emerge from behind

rope tied tight

wrists and ankles sore

prayers whispered softly

wishing for her savior, so divine

the end is near

here comes his menacing giggle

as the room got darker

deeper the knife dug into her spine

finger dipped in blood to draw squiggles

the entire floor covered in deplorable gore

Rimaal*, it has been six years since I have seen you.

And yet.

I remember to anticipate you. I remember

how you cover even paved streets, the feeling

of you in my sandals, under my heels, 

so insistent, so bothersome, so constant.

In the apartment, I find traces of you still,

carried by the wind from mountains that 

are far enough away to be mere pinpricks,

but not so far for you to travel 

to make your irksome presence known.

And yet.

Rimaal, you are encompassing. You are

rickshaws, small and quick through city streets,

kicking up clouds of you into our faces. You are 

Sharm el-Sheikh, Gamasa, al-Sokhna, Port Said,

where we go when we want to remember

 that we still have horizons, with you beneath our feet.

In the one-bedroom-one-living-room apartment 

that makes the motherland, you are her bowels,

her leftovers, her faraway gaze, her forgotten dunes,

her nile as it calls and weighs and pounds upon us.

Rimaal, you are so aggravating. You are

the years I have forgotten, the proud balcony

presiding over generations, the midnight dares 

over a deck of cards in crowded gardens.

Rimaal, you are home, you are awful,

you are terrible, you are beloved.

And yet. 

Rimaal, love, can I tell you a story?

*rimaal = Arabic word for sands