A Trip Back

She shares a post,
Her city’s museum,
Opposite to Pizza Hut,
But for her to see my past,
To see how I sculpted myself,
How the poetry in life smiled,
Is all I ever want,
And all I care now
Is to see her blossoming,
A renaissance,
An emotional revolution,
I am my own museum,
Worldwide collections,
With a recent discovery,
An Arabian exhibition,
A reconnection to my past,
To her own museum,
And to our blessed future.

It was You She Hanged, Remember!

Needles keep striking your chest,
The place where you remember,
Beautiful memories like red roses,
But then the thorns bleed you dry,
And you stop. You retreat. You –
Forget about her, all of her,
You have unmasked this being,
So, move on and forget that hug,
Forget that smile and that dance,
The songs and the infinite poetry,
All you need to do is remember,
Remember her twisted words,
Making you feel guilty every time,
Shackled and imprisoned in her world,
Each step thinking twice or ten times,
Until you stop talking to everyone,
Relationships cut, deleted, stabbed,
And with her incessant hisses:
Your own self she enslaved,
Your close friends she drowned,
And at last, it was you that she hanged,

Slán Abhaile

Today, I inscribe warm letters from my free soul,
For the land who speaks an ancient language,
For its people whose voices resonate within me,
For those from other lands with different tongues,
A mixture of magical luminescence living together,
In symbiotic attraction dancing along a constellation,
Governed by voluntary smiles and peaceful hugs,
Twinkling in their lovely portraits within my poetry,
And I forever remember them as I place each star
On my heart’s ceiling for guidance at each heartbeat,
Lub-dub for few tears, lub-dub for more smiles,
Lub-dub for a farewell, lub-dub for a way forward.


Fifty is a random number,
Attracted by the logical
Mathematical calculating
Alphanumeric functional
Mind that dwells in many
Vastly complex equations,
Fifty can be very random,
But in marketing, it is not,
Simple fact of its worth
Will only be noted when
The equation is challenged,
And instead of an integer
Like fifty, a more profiting
Number is the forty-nine
Point ninety-nine, and
That is the worth of an
Item worthy of a fifty,
Fifty is not that random,
It is half of a hundred –
A number that is labelled
Separately than all others,
A symbol, a century, and
Fifty is half a century,
And so, I choose to write
Fifty random poems in
One challenging month,
And now, I write my fifty.