14/12/16

The soil under your feet is comprised of the elements of

Sacrifice
Your predecessor was never the first in line of
Land
The days flow by with the notion of restoration of
Honour
Your title was never the first in line of
Existence

The innocent leave this earth in the name of
Freedom
Your hands were not meant to exert acts of
Annihilation

The result of catastrophes never ends in moments of
Equilibrium
Your predecessor, your title, your hands all comprise of
Potential

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11/11/2016

They don’t want me.
They look at me from their raised, uneven rocks
I’m drowning
It’s not the water, no.
Their judgement, cold and unforgiving, is immobile 
Their concept of land ownership goes back only a few generations
It opposes the constant yet unstable movement of tectonic plates under their very own feet

They say that I’m dirty, full of disease
They don’t even look at me in the eyes
What are they so afraid of?
Their invasion was set with intention of dominance and prosperity
They drew thick, uneven lines behind them and
Set threats of death upon trespass.

If they could draw borders on the seas’ end, trust me
They would.
I am not human to them,
I am merely a mass of blood, bones, nerves and organs
Foreign
A malignancy, a case of severe misfortune

Coming to their aid for survival,
Just like when they came to mine
Or
Did they?

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Of Cities And Women (Letters To Fawwaz) by Etel Adnan

'Greece leans towards goddesses. These create, with the gods, an ideal society : a projection of what women and men could be if they were what they are. In this world where the Mediterranean civilization blossomed, goddesses and gods are neither angels nor beasts, nor creatures of the happy medium. On the contrary, with bristled hair, they represent the actualization of all our potential, a maximal plenitude of life. They neither resolve nor avoid conflict. Passions burn in them with all the primeval fuel. It's peril and adventure up to the hilt. 
And we are probably moving towards a form of society similar in many ways to this ancient Greece.'




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Ode To The Old

Distant lands
Planned but wasted summers
Wash away the waves of my imagination

Soft, light silk
White, weightless
Fabric

Humidity, sweet tea, wine and a gentle breeze.

Just like our time
Youth comes in momentary glances;
It carries on without a warning or reminder.

Shadows of movement, dancing bodies
Imitating the core, the unwritten
Pattern of Fibonacci.

What are we?
But souls swirling through space and time
Part of an infinite microcosm

But the stories lost
Through the flames of Alexandria


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Random Ramblings

I don't know what I want to say really..It's these feelings of ''nostalgia'' of wanting to ultimately live my life to the fullest of my ability. 
I feel as if I want to absorb as much of the things going on around me as I can. 
I can try to travel, to read, to go to the cinema and theater, spend time with friends and family or simply wander in nature but I am not sure if it is me or my feelings. 
I feel as if there is so much beauty in the world that I want to experience and I want to contribute, even at a minuscule scale - it will still be part of my essence, my sacrifices - that I sometimes get overwhelmed and worried I won't have time to really do what I want before life “catches up” and any other ''responsibilities'' of growing older do for that matter.
I think it’s a realization that this time we have is so precious, fragile and uncertain that we take it for granted sometimes.


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