Solo

I passed by that drunken street
during the day
It felt like a different place
It was not infested with glamoured up beings
nor was it showered by the spilled drinks of others

I aimlessly walked and enjoyed a cup of wine
at 3 pm, marveling at the pseudo sober humans
holding conversations, conducting meetings
eating, having coffee

Oh my dear street, I have underestimated you
and limited your existence to a “stage”  (quoted)
for drunken souls, drinking their third world
worries away, enjoying induced pleasure
that will either be vomited or lingered
in your mind – knocking on your skull
“Hey, I am your hang over”

As I sat there, soaking in the sun
on that crummy wobbly chair
I spoke to a friend of mine,
I could actually hear him,
I sipped on my wine with no intention
of gulping it, I smoked my cigarettes
normally, not chain-ly

“Let’s go check out some art”
That statement rang in my ears
Art, my senses clung to that last wine sip
so as to enjoy it with the art that I was about to see

As we walked, on those streets
my eyes were gawking at the bits and pieces
eaten by the night, that our vision fails
to grasp, for some reason I felt like a tourist
foreign to the same streets I frequent
every freaking day!

As my friend opened the iron gates
those creaks initiated a sense of mystic
feel
My body hungry for something unknown
my soul yearned for the cultural stimulation
that my brain climaxes to
My eyes forgot how to blink
aching for masterpieces

We stepped into a room
with patterned titles
in front of the door was a painting
black and white
Yet there was something mysterious about it
My eyes slowly moved my body
towards it, the magic halted my body
at a certain distance from it

My vision could capture the whole canvas
The yearning has stopped and now
it is at a loss of expression
it “froze” digesting the aura of this masterpiece

I fixated on the eyes
I could hear it, I could listen
to the chaos happening
in that brain behind those eyes
I could feel the sadness
the aches, the experiences
the happiness that has backfired
those endless nights homogenized
with alcohol and cigarettes
those days of being used and abused
or using and experimenting

I could see those eyes
looking back at me, and silently
relaying a response
“I’ve seen it and felt it too”
Shivers, goosebumps
trailed along my arms
my spine chilled with a peculiar feeling

I stood there, feeling small
I stood there absorbing the instant relationship
the one whose commitment was strongest
than any of my priors held with real humans
The one where a silent conversation
echoes in your body
The one where your space is its space
That one connection you have with someone
or something
That enigmatic feeling
where justification is not needed
nor required

I stood there, gazing
gawking at those eyes
Dammit, I can literally
converse
in silence
I was taken
my soulful satiation has been complete
my mental cultural richness reached
the brim, yet my eyes
my eyes would not stir away from the sight
The connection was immense, it hypnotized my eyes
my mental capacity
the conversation kept going

“Shoulder pat”

“Did you see that one?” he said
My attention was abruptly cut
my eyes remembered how to blink

As I walked around the gallery
that painting, kept looking
I felt like a blushed lover, stealing glances
because of that connection
It was not all butterflies and colors
It was  a painting
in simple black and white
dank dark colors
harsh strokes and thin hairlines of paint

It was a portrait
of mere
mess
that
was
a reflection
of
me
and
I
for the first time
loved
it

art by Rafic Majzoub - Rain on Me solo show, Beirut, Lebanon

art by Rafic Majzoub – Rain on Me solo show, Beirut, Lebanon

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HUMAN

You stand there
Paused in a fast forward world
You squint your eyes
to focus your vision
on what you THINK
matters
You stand there
bottled with mixed emotions
injecting your brain with digital
droplets of imposed norms
You stand there
with a beating heart
that your body has harnessed
till now
With breathing lungs
that still support you, even though
you smoke like a fucking chimney
You stand there on the street
Scanning the same faces,
the same familiar faces
that frequent your footsteps
to and fro, everyday
those whose eyes are glued
to the very same gadgets
that stir their vision away
from the world itself
You stand there, with the moving landscaped
centered in front of you
but no sound, just the blasting
music, in your ears
unique to you, ON THAT DAY
You orchestrate the motions
of humans, cars, birds
to the beats of your tunes
You stand there, helpless
facing that fast paced world
that has individualized the “WE”
that has controlled us … digitally
You stand there,
WAIT.. YOU SPOT SOMEONE
Also standing there
looking away from those
plastic robots in his palm
and looking right back
at you!
The stare that speaks to you in a loud world!

The stare that speaks to you in a loud world!

Free Writing

She thought
She would be in those pictures
where faces are painted with smiles
where dresses are so perfectly and selectively picked
where every photo is as memorable as the memory it preserves

Then her thought struck her
like lightening in a random damp rainstorm

she wasn’t ready to wear that dress
she wasn’t ready to settle

she has so much life in her
butterflies in her body
strong heart beats
she couldn’t pickle it in a jar

she has so much to offer
she gives with no thought, it’s her high

she has the world to wander
she has citizens of the planet to meet
she has ambition,
different kind of ambition,
she has fireworks in her head  (quoted)
she has words to share
she has stories to tell
she has a love to spread
she has her self
to explore

what was she thinking?
Societal acceptance?
FUCK THAT!

Never try to constrain her free spirit
hers is meant to soar
in thought, in the skies, among the stars
You are welcome to join
but never to pin down!

free-spirit-test