Bolt

it was the calm before the storm
the birds flew, polka dotting the sky
the clouds, were in fast forward
while he stood there
paused, marveling at the
world’s motion

The chilly breeze kissed his cheeks
igniting flames of redness
the sun was there, shying behind the clouds
fearing what’s coming
Her rays escapes through
the space between the cotton like clouds

His hair danced, left and right
in abrupt swaying motions, as if it tangoed
with an ex-lover, pulsating hatred
mingling with attraction

He looked around, it was meek
dreary, dull, it looked like
something great was about to happen
he was oblivious as to what

He liked the mystery of it all
he thrived on the curiosity that churned within
The ambiance got darker, the sun fled in fear
the grey-ness, crept in
engulfing the purity of the sky
with some sort of dark magic

His eyes wondered
at the great big space above
he could sense, but didn’t really feel
The wind blew, waves of power
it moved him, it pushed him around
He was surprised at its strength

More wind, more black magic
it stripped him off his clothes
it pushed him away from the urban bullshit
it carried him, beyond seas, and evergreen forests
the man showed no struggle, he was just cold,
scathed, bruised, naked,

it carried him to meet the mythical mermaids
to kiss the crisp mountain tops
to shake hands with the wizards of nature
it carried him to near extinct cultures
it dipped him in the dead sea
it painted him with tribal symbols
it placed him in the arms of beautiful maidens
and alluring harems

the sun peeked from time to time
to check on her fellow observer, the man who stood there
looking back in silence, she teared up at the merciless acts of the wind
She asked the wind “WHY?”
“There is nothing worse than a someone, empty
I moved him,
his stagnation is slowly killing him” the wind said

The sun hid behind a grey cloud and asked again
“He marveled at the simple things, let him be”

The wind blew one last time, placing him
back where he carried him
the man was smiling, shaking with adrenaline

“Can you hear that?” the wind asked

THUD, THUD, THUD

The sun came up, putting the wind at ease, brightening the sky
She looked at him, while he gained control of his limbs
as he carried his thin body, to balance them to his feet

“I needed that” the man hummed
as he placed his hand on his chest
as if cupping his heart, hugging something he missed

I needed an escape
from the stagnant plague
and a bolt to shock
that muscle between my ribs

wind 2

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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

Divergent

I held a conversation 
the other day
with a different generation

I felt I was learning
literally, my mind was awakened
by the factoids it was gulping

Factoid pills were colored 
and had labels engraved on them
Politics, lost cause country
poetry, society and of course 
the idea of humanity

I popped in the humanity one
I swallowed it with curiosity
without hesitation

My mind went tripping

It is truly sad that it has become an idea
this humanity thing
Which shreds by last bets
I had on it
into dust
useless and unworthy

They narrated a verse from
a very famous Lebanese singer
that illustrated humanity 
between a boy and a girl

“I know you’re thinking this is just another 
cheeky love story, but trust me listen
I mean read!” 

Imagine a world where
when you lay your eyes on her
your heart allies with your brain 
into thinking of ways of a simple encounter

Days pass, in the village
the thought of her
lingers and you smile
Here’s the fun part
She delved into society
with no means of connectivity
you have to FIND her!

FIND, do you actually know 
how to physically go about 
finding someone? 

I don’t mean typing their name 
into a blank rectangular space
I mean, going, asking, and enjoying it
“that girl with the chestnut hair, thin stature
she was on that street, her eyes were honey like?
who is she?”

Can you feel the fucking mystery
isn’t it pumped with adrenaline?

So you wait on the street across 
from where you saw her
You wait, just to get a glimpse
wow, what value it had
a glimpse

Oh how beautiful!
She doesn’t know of your existence
She doesn’t know that she has distantly 
melted your heart 

Wait, the door opens, there she is
You place your hand on your heart
as if comforting that beating machine
calming it from racing

You breathe, it is her! 
You got your fill, what do you do now?
You muster up,
“Should I talk to her? 
what would I say? What if she thinks
lowly of me?”

Can you feel the humanity?
Do you even know that this was once how it was?
What has happened to it?
Too old school? well fuck this right?
let’s get laid and fuck everything that moves right?
Because my satisfactions overpower yours
Because the power of ME, goes way beyond the 
power of We

Taking time to know her is out of the question
talking to her, marveling at her details,
taking that road just because she lives across
is too old school, 
or wait let me utilize this word

“it is lame

What’s lame about it?
The respect that existed then
the creativity, the mental 
anxiety? 


 
Let’s pump ourselves with alcohol so we 
Can tame our inhibitions and let go
Because making love is too cliche
Hollywood has made it seem 
elusive, far-fetched

wait here’s a statement for you
Love making has become fiction 
right?
Chemistry is mistaken or 
none existent


Let’s get high on whatever gets us there
so as to experience the humane
Let’s strive towards instant gratification 
because our attention spans are that 
of fish

Pause, wait a minute
This is real, fuck 
this is horrific

Have we dove in too deep
to diffuse ourselves into our own egos?
Are we too fat or too thin?
Are we sexy enough to bring him home?
Are we too constipated, would they like me?

Ladies and gentlemen 
these are the measures of our society
Woe’s me
the terror of such stupidity 

Have you literally forgot how to 
endure, how to feel the beauty of something real?
Does that blood-pumping-machine between your ribs
still remember how it feels like, when she holds your hand
for the first time?

Do you remember?

For some this piece 
might be harsh to digest 
and too old school
but in general
we have become too broken
to actually feel the aching 
burns of the cracks 
that have been happening over time

I met you 
You met me
that’s the act of meeting
modernly
not curious, not even anxious

Sorry this might hurt
but it’s opinionated
I am entitled to it
regardless of your
philosophy

I am sure your ego
will definitely entitle your opinion 
to your own gilded philosophy
that you have so beautifully 
created and 
you now 
sadly 
worship 

 Now tell me
What did you feel 
the last time you kissed

him or her?
If you did feel anything
well, then congratulations
You have passed the 
“I am still human test”
If not, then I do apologize
we have sincerely lost 
another one

Kristen Rose art

Canvas

I am not sure
how to jot down
the surrounding
ideas that swim in my brain

they are not ideas per say
they seem to have a direct link
to my heart

I am truly happy
am I?
the conflict
I am alive, more alive
that I have ever been

I am in love
not with anyone, I am in love
not with anything
but this natural high has taken
me places and brightened
my dull confidence

Everyone knows after a high
comes the low, I am in limbo
I am stuck on a blank slate
with no plans ahead
nor any behind me, I made sure
I threw acid on them and burned them to ashes
those past mistakes, oh silly mistakes

I am on a tabula rasa pinned
by the beating heart and keeps me going
Yet, those beats always play solo
sometimes they long for the other
to comply with every thump
sometimes it beats so well, it enjoys
its aloneness

That slate, my canvas
what should I do with you?
Should I go wild and slap colored paint streaks on you?
Should I meticulously create my future?
Should I mix-n-match a messy creation and
then watch it burn?
Is this liberating or just confusing?

I am caught between
the two extremes of the scale
I am alone and I embrace it
I am alone and I dissecting every
layer that has covered me and hid me away
from my true being

Thick impermeable layers that I
inflicted on myself to please others
Give me the damn scalpel, I feel my inner bright rays
aching to shine, to expose themselves
As I make an incision, I felt lighter
I felt better, those dark layers
fell one by one, day by day
I am naked, I am comfortable
in my own skin
I am naked
and my heart
beats by itself
for
itself

NUDE

NUDE

Veins

Can your heart
shield itself
when it comes to feeling?

Can you become immune to the
butterflies? Have they fled your body
seeking brighter spaces?

What is this feeling
engulfing you, thickening your skin
generating gyrations of power in your
being, this feeling of “not feeling”
this inhaled breath that fills your lungs
with apathy
Yes, that’s it!

Your lack of concern with the usual
has stitched itself to your personality
to a point where your ego gulped it
like the last drop in your drink
during “Last call”

You are falling for it
You are oblivious to it
You have never felt it,
Time… time looked upon you
and said
“You have had enough, you’ve had it coming”
“You’ve been there and now here, have this
take one pill … its effects are lifelong”

You take it, curious and afraid
of this irreversible trip
You look at the pill and squint to read
the stamped name
“Self realization”
*Gulp*
it hits your brain, awakens your neurons
Self realization is the the drug of choice
its effects range from highs of self confidence
lucid mind flashes over clean judgement
feelings of power, outspoken at times
since it’s irreversible, the low of that drug is
none existent

You stand there,
You feel the drug, you feel your weight
on the ground, your presence
You feel that illuminating halo
around you
Your view has changed
it’s one of the effects
Self realization has happened
you’re on a one route path
You’re feeling…
unheeding
and for some sick twisted reason
you are loving it
Loving the power seeded
in the veins of apathy

but wait..

are you

really

feeling?

feeling less

Mystery

She walks with such grace
that’s only as beautiful
as the soul that
blossoms in her fiery core

Her perfume slithers
its way from her neck
all the way to your neurons
they burst with electricity
they establish an associative memory
“that’s her scent” – you say silently
Without a glimpse of her face ..
Well not yet!

Her scent has hypnotized you
to abruptly follow its invisible trail
You want to feast your eyes
on that beautiful woman
who’s scent speaks volumes
in pulchritude and seduction

Like a mad man,
logic has been suppressed
and your instincts kicked in
and you want to satiate your curiosity
You follow her down the street
You fixate your eyes on those golden locks
You try to piece up a face
to fit that gorgeous silhouette

As you pass the shadowy vague
passer by’s, you got closer
your heart pumping, your veins popped out
adrenaline has become your cocaine
every breath you take, gets shorter
as your hand extends to reach out
to touch her, a gentle tap on
her shoulder, a queue for her to turn around

Time froze, as she slowly turned
You were astonished at her appearance
Her face was as fresh as the first day of spring
innocence, yet those eyes
cut from stars, magnetically
attracted your attention
They harbored lively demons

You couldn’t fathom the mystery
that surrounded her
She was a mix of innocence
a dash of demon and whole
lot of secrets

Your hesitation at lacking the ability of verbalize
resulted in you blurting out
“Sorry thought you were someone else”

As she forced a smile
she said “It’s ok” and kept on walking
not giving you any ounce of attention
..and that my dear sir stirred something in you

As you walked back regaining your sense of logic
“wtf was that” moments started seeping in

You bought a beer from a crummy local place
leaned on a car by the sidewalk, took out a cigarette
You wondered
What secrets does such a human possess?
How many hearts has she broken? How many times has her been?
What kind of lovers have had her in their lives?
Does she like men or women?
What’s her addiction? What’s her weakness?

As your thoughts dance with your imagination
You reached mental illusions where you shared a cigarette with her
looked at her face, studied the wrinkles she has when she smiles
that one dimple
How can such a being, have lingering demons
playing within?
How can she plaster a smile to beautifully
cover her inner self?
You go on marveling

Yet you still cannot pin down the mystery…
that key
to open the door
and let the little devils come
out and play

Junkie

We are humans
always in need
always lacking something
never complete

Our bodies yearn
for a touch, not any sensation
but that which poisons your skin
with tingles of feelings

That warm tracing sense
barely touching your dermis
skin on skin, yet so full
of emotion

Our minds, always soaking
the knowledge around us
always gawking at any new
opportunity to learn, to research
to dissect, to inspect, to
satiate your ever lasting curiosity

Here comes the one
whose power is so strong
it voodoo’s you into insanity
…the heart
whose mind is one of its own
The heart has the power to hypnotize
the mind, paralyze logic and overcome
rationale

The heart yearns for love
love of any and love for any

It tricks the body
by injecting it with butterflies
caged in the stomach
A pasted smile, giggles
a natural high, lack of appetite
ease and a sense of selflessness
a feeling of warmth and a perception
of world domination
Symptoms of which any drug can induce
in gleeful circumstances

Why is the heart so easily
seduced by only drug that quenches
its thirst for life, or is it?

Silly heart of ours, why so weak
in the face of this amorous potion?
Does it seduce you with its nakedness
and transparency?
Do you send messages to the body tricking it,
igniting its craving for sensual touches?
Do you send electric shocks to the brain
demanding it to shut down, all its sense
of purpose?

Oh dear heart of ours
Are you a junkie dependent
on the love drug, the love bug?
Do you seek its high purposefully
physically and mentally?
Do you enjoy finding yourself
between the sweaty shuffled sheets?

We have analyzed you and studied your steps
You are spontaneous, like any addict
you enjoy the here and now,
You want to be naked, you enjoy it
Yet, when you come crashing from that
love drug
it is the body that suffers
and the mind that wakes up
leaving us unprepared
for the unpremeditated
love – hate
feeling

Oh silly heart of ours
Do you enjoy every skipped beat?
We are aware that your addiction
is what keeps us
humans yearning, longing
for a taste of
that insatiable
uncontrolable
love drug

The anatomy of a love junkie

The anatomy of a love junkie

Freedom

If I had the freedom
to abdicate to my
wildest thoughts

I would be on a plane
heading to a destination
that would arouse
my stagnant senses

Those that have been shot down
by the self inflicted social routine,
slowly reaping what is left
of what makes me human

If I had the freedom
I would be a bird
with wings spread
flying and looking down,
but never being a part of
the dirt, the chaos, the murder
the beauty, the innocence

If I had the freedom
I would carelessly voice “I love you’s”
to everyone who needs it
I would hand it out like free candy

To those whose hearts
that need mending
I will be their glue

To those whose hearts that are broken
I will give them a new ones
To those whose hopes have been crushed
I will hand them jars upon jars of bubble-wrapped aspirations

If I had the freedom
I would share stories with strangers
and listen to theirs and instantly
feel richer

If I had the freedom
I would spend my days
with my fingers dancing out
words on that blank slate
compiling pages and pages
of material to read and be read

If I had the freedom
I would make peace with all those
whose pride has eaten them alive
whose past has amplified hate into their future
and mine

If I had the freedom
I would remove myself from the digital world
that has eaten my time and wasted my eye sight

If I had the freedom
I would land my lips on yours
and kiss you, because you are beautiful

If I had the freedom…
I would embrace you
and tell you everything will be O.K

But
I don’t
and
I won’t

Held Back

Layers

The exciting mystery
of your depth
Sparks with such electricity
that tempts the purest of souls
to tamper with it

The unraveling of your layers
that cover the gilded heart within
paused time, when it decided to proceed
My tamed intuitions are bewitched
by some sort of invisible energy

Every layer of you told a story
of a phase that embodies itself
in your system
As I attentively removed every shield
I soaked in every story, every bullshit
every compliment, every insult
that left that mouth of yours

Wait, my heart didn’t beat yet
Has it not been awakened by the
tangible feelings above?
Or it has it become immune to the
sly games of this thing called love
that has driven writers mad and lovers
insane?

As I sat there, with a mellow beating heart
I tried to dive back into the world
outside my rib cage and into the conversation

My eyes dissected every feature,
Silently reading those invisible
words that expose themselves
nakedly, to be read by every passer by
Those none verbal ques
those movements
fidgeting, confidence,
crossed hands, running hand through hair

I read them, as words filled the atmosphere with noise
I lit my cigarette so as to satiate my nicotine craving
Time became slow, bad sign I know
As I pulled back, as if a beckoning from my heart
I rest my back on the wooden chair
It’s wonderful how your unspoken motions
send waves of meaning

I gazed, I gathered the small elements
I absorbed the meaning
from the picture as a whole
a moment of awareness
and I embraced it
and it felt rewarding
this feeling of blasé
this feeling of self realization
this feeling of loving upon demand
and not upon heart felt control

I sat there, I with a smoky cloud
embellishing the dry atmosphere
in between, I smiled
and I said
“You know, I don’t really care”
With dilated eyes, you looked at me
and noticed that I too have layers
that need unraveling
be it delicately or ravishly

Layers to the Bone

Perception

It happened so fast
The waking up, the trouble,
the breathing, the scenes

Even the sounds of life were in fast forward mode
The heart stalled, slowly
Like the heaving train coming to a halt at it’s final stop

Take a deep breath! You’re still alive
Because it’s meant to be!

You are alone, can you find yourself again?
You have literally teleported from relationship mode
To “Now it’s me again” mode

It might be difficult at first, the aloneness
Not the loneliness
The aloneness, the fact that you walk the earth with yourself
The fact, the you don’t have the one calling you
checking up on you, cheering you up!

Your naive heart, that posed as an arena
To those gladiators who shred it to pieces
year after year
Has taken enough!

It decided to pump some life and sense into you
To make you realize that those experiences that
Have compiled, murdered, killed, slaughtered
a piece of you
Also have molded, strengthened and gilded your spirit
They taught you, made you cry, pushed you around
and yet you still stand and say
“I have had enough” OUT LOUD!

That beautiful and hurtful sense of realization
Vibrated confident sensations
up to your eye balls
Providing you with a new hue
of life, a new perception
and a new out look!

The young woman and the old lady!

The young woman and the old lady!