My Words

Understanding the World through words

Month: July, 2014

District 9 | The Gaza Syndrome

The reason why Gaza and other areas inhabited by regional Arabs has been turned into a ‘District 9’ type atmosphere is because, and only because, regional Arabs do not know how to control their aggressive and unnecessary war urges. If they would use the same energy to live side-by-side peacefully, like the Druze Arabs, the Middle East would be a world model of tolerance a second al-Andalus!

Instead regional Arabs have shown the world their contempt for order, peace and tolerance, and ultimately their ignorance. Instead, everyone who recently comes into contact with the al-Andalus historic model is stunned that the Arab culture has fallen so low. To the point that it’s “incredible” to most that Arab culture rose so high in the first place.

This is the shame of current contemporary Arab culture and values, their insurgent fanatical brothers have dissolved any kind of credibility for the rest of Arabs. The fate being that they are despised worldwide, a grotesque people who’s only motive in life is to bring darkness and mayhem to the World.

Nothingness In A Jar

If I were to travel
high above our Earth
into outer space,
I’d take a mason jar
and fill it up to the
brim.

As a reminder of
my inter-galactic travel,

and a reminder that
nothingness can
be contained in a jar.

Poem-Capricious Lady

Last night I slept
under a blanket of
stars, warmed
by the comfort of
Andromeda’s gaze.

It was there
I touched the
Milky Way’s
breasts.

I rested my
head on
a feathered pillow
floating on a
midnight colored lake.

I contemplated
the infinite
possibilities
that life exist

somewhere
on those
nebulous clouds
that lightly stroke
the noir colored sky.

I witnessed
the trail
of a meteorite
and overheard
a wishful prayer
from a
stargazed child,

hoping along with him
that his petition
be heard.

while the
soothing
breeze of awe
kissed
my naked
face,

I disappeared
into the
the obscurity
of the universe

and dreamt
alongside
those

whose watchful eyes
are moved by
the splendid
contrast of
darkness
and infinite
light.

Cloud Covered Smiles

My pensive face
darkened by the sun
like a Bedouin’s mocha
colored dates.
My nose is stately,
Inquisitional,
Sephardic.
My lips are neither
swollen or thin
but sandwiched
in-between.
My eyes are as
dark as sun drenched
Raisins, slanted by my
many cloud covered
smiles.

Poetry

Poetry is
the arrangement
and the subtle
placement
of words similar to
lighting that
streaks across the
darkened sky,
both make a
lasting imprint
on the soul.

The Disruption I’ve Caused | Poetic Redaction from BP’s 2010 Oil Spill

Oil I’m oil,
from BP to
Hell the gulf
I’ve covered in
slime and
muck. It all
becomes
needless
talk instead
of honest
concerns rather
than the
“massive
disruption”,
I’ve caused.

Mango Chips

I’m the voice in my
own song in the world

that I see.
The bitter truth
is I project my

perceptions onto
the softness of mango
chips and the starkness
of maroon painted
walls.

White framed doorways
and cream candles lined
up on a ten by
twelve inch green
concrete slab.

Twenty-one images all because
two people fell in love.

The
sound of fidgeting with
plastic bags and the
whisk of a fan they
become part of me
I then impart unto thee.

Oil To Oil | Redacted poem from BP’s response to 2010 oil spill

I was only joking
when I said,
“it can be easily
contained.”

It’s a massive
deepwater
disruption, where
operations
are daily
failures.

“There was
just too
Much flow”,

allowing
the beach to
see the details
of environmental
disaster.

From Louisiana
to the gulf of
Mexico.

What Crises? | Redacted poem from BP’s response to Gulf Oil spill

Oil I’m oil,
It’s a massive
financial health
insurgency and
not about deepwater
disruptions per day.

I raise a cup to
environmental workers
as hospitalized operations
are harassed failures.

“There was just too
Much flow”

The beach masks
leaking interest
hindering a fisherman
cleaning guerrilla, who
sees details
of disasters more
than any other time
In US history, including
Exxon Valdez.

Sonnet | Counter Arguments

1. The room next door ushers familiar voices as
2. My wife and son are arguing over explicit possibilities filtering through my door jamb.
3. The train wreak that can become if given into promiscuity and
4. The infidelity of family members two-faced salutations.
5. He’s eighteen now, it’s time to let go.
6. But the words we speak (I’m now involved) linger, as we try to counsel him, as we
7. Try to persuade him, the way well meaning parents often do, by life’s many experiences
8. We’ve gone through, the many things we’ve seen add up to examples
9. Of success or unnecessary downfalls.
10. He’s at a crossroad, will it be college? We hope so.
11. He stands up for the promiscuous family members in his life, he argues
12. For the downtrodden. Their promiscuity is a result of the, “hand they were given”, he says.
13. The need and love of money is also promiscuous, as bad or worse than drugs is the counter-argument he makes.
14. The many arguments that were spoken remain like a foggy cloud hovering over a desolate pond.