Third World

Consider this
A nation drugged with
numbness,
Bombs of sarcasm on our border
Humans with crocodile smiles
Roads of crammed cars
Sounds of the night
Just like every other night

I could not but join in the celebration
We have become pathetic, we have adapted
to war
This is not a light thing to say
We have adapted to being the laughing stock
of our neighboring countries

We have grown fond of death and killings
we have been psychologically conditioned
to become desensitized
to what “progressed countries” call
“an unstable nation”

Wait,
I forgot the patriots
I pity them, those whose souls
are strong, on an individual level because
most have lost interest in “hope”
Props to you and your unheard voices
whatever keeps that heart of yours beating
well…inject more,

project to progress

We’ve become a selfish nation
each striving to perfect that blueprint
of his illusion called “future”

YOU ARE ALL DELUSIONAL

I join the mental protest
towards progress, I join the
rivers of ambition that lead to the waterfall
with the rocky bottom
I join the walk towards
that fucking idea of “success”
then I pause
I halt in the middle of all that commotion
“then what?”

I still live in this country, I still have this crummy
apartment, I still don’t have water, I still don’t have electricity
I still plan on leaving, everyday
I still .. still
I still get drunk on ideas, on feelings
on alcohol on tangible moments
on psychological satisfactions
on the idea of WE instead of ME
AND vice versa when needed

“Shuffled Sheets”
I woke up, my nostrils dirtied
by the polluted air that I so willingly breathe
I am hosting this weakened body
that has become programmed
to follow routine
to react to any action
to just push through the next sunrise
I light my cigarette to compliment the fact
that I am awake, I am still alive
on an empty stomach growling
for something new

Ah what a paradox

I stood on my balcony, resting on that rusty
railing of mine, I look across to see how
the buzzing bees of Beirut, cease to
acknowledge the infesting corruption
that is slowly feeding off of their humanity
like parasites on unaware hosts

I see them, I can hear them
I disagree with
and all I can do is exhale that
cancerous smoke and join in
the
corrupted
celebration
well…
for now!

Then I took another look
at the messy view
colored by laundry rails
old wooden shutters
cheap paint and LCD advertisements
and I saw you standing there
on your porch with your head
stuck in your own cigarette smoke
leaning and looking straight
back at me

city 3

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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

Lebanese with all its Glory!

I can proudly say that Diamond setter truly makes Lebanon’s name ripple and echo in the ears of the world with this tune.
This song, well I will let it speak for itself.. I want you to tell me what this song triggers!

3
2
1
GO!

My Beloved

You’re beauty is timeless,
Many have passed through and have marveled at your curves
Your lively spirit is irreplaceable, people from all over the world make it a point
to visit and personally enjoy YOU!

Your reputation has rippled passionate stories for many generations
Your coastlines seduce the craziest of swimmers
Your mountains are a the catalysts for adrenaline chasing hikers

Your people are characterized by a confident and beautiful manner

What has happened to you my beloved?
Has my decreased love, made you feel rejected?
Have I diverted my care and ambitions away from you?
Have you given up being what you truly are because your own people have lost faith in you?

What has gone wrong? You were a legend among legends
Now you have parasites running through your veins,
Infecting you with diseases among diseases
Weakening the very breath of beauty that you gave to everyone
and you LET THEM

Now you have scum ruining your reputation
Scum that are threatening your own people
Providing them with a great incentive to flee their own home
and you LET THEM

Primitive destruction, kidnapping, beheading
Chaos, turmoil, loss of governance, loss of conscience
Mix these together and you have a recipe of complete demolition

My beloved, I know this sounds like the end
A break up never ended beautifully,
However, my beloved Lebanon, your beauty
will always make my heart skip a beat
But alas, youthful souls always seek great heights
and your heights are being veiled by the dark shadow
of complete annihilation

Sadly..

The Beauty Of Lebanon that ONCE was!

The Beauty Of Lebanon that ONCE was!