trekni2ool

في الذكرى

2011-05-15T08:44:00.000-07:00

قد أكون رقماً... لكنني وصمة عارٍ أخرى على وجهك
قد أكون جزءاً من إحصائية... لكنني رويت بدمائي أرضا دنَّستها قدماك
قد أكون انتهيت... لكنني تعطرت برائحة الزعتر وجَمّلتُ شعري بزيت الزيتون
قد يكون اسمي قطعةً اخباريةً... لكنه جعل من اسمك شتيمة
قد يكون سريري دُنِّس بصاروخهم... لكن جسدي الساكن طَهُر فوق صمتك
قد تكون ألعابي ذات جدائل وخدود حمراء... لكن ألعابهم احمرّت أيديهم بدمي
قد يكون موتي لا يحرك فيك سوى الإدانة... لا تقلق فأنا أتفهم حبك للجبن الفاخر
قد تكون روحي رخصت أمامك... لكن أمي أخبرتني أنك الرخيص
قد تحسبني صمتاً يُرمى على ظهر قومي... لكن شعاعاً من الكبتِ سيعميك يوما
قد أكون مثالاً لأنثى تكتب ما تشعر للغرباء... لكن سَجِّلها فلسطينية، فخرها أبصم عليه بدمائي
قد تكون ثرياً أو رئيس دولة... لكنني فوق رأسِك أقف شهيدة

December 30th, 2008

4th day of Gaza manslaughter

The END

2011-05-11T11:24:00.000-07:00

This is where he'll end up
This is where he'll be
This is where his end is
His heart will set free

Existence of his soul
At her door befalls
As easy as it seemed
Demeaning all the walls

Drained his sorrows
Away in her palms
Faintly he follows
Granting her thrones

This is where he'll end up
This is where he'll be
This is where his end is
And his end is She

What kind of dream is this?

2011-05-09T14:03:00.000-07:00

I am a man with an ultimate heart… Shallow emotions, I flip I change. With pride I gather attention; prejudiced maybe, yet cruel I can be. Crush and change, crush and change, I am a man with ultimate rush, ultimate rage. Veni, vidi, vici. I came, I saw, I conquered. Beware me, for I shall collect your heart, your essence.

I am a man with a heavy heart… and I dare not touch your hand. Step away or step near, I wouldn’t make you shine. I fear your faith, I search my comfort. Stuck at the second gear, although you make it so damn easy to love. I take, giving is a dilemma. Sacrifice for me and wait, wait, wait.

I am a man with an empty heart… I yearn, I need. While faces fade, I follow. Shades are my guide, I go nowhere yet I follow. Can't you see? I harbor your love, in a not-so-safe place. Appreciate that. Give me your love, give and never let go.

Does Not Contain Artificial Colors

2011-05-03T11:59:00.000-07:00

Out of the blue, a spirit rose through the dark black night. And while the moon shone as bright as the yellow sun, the other road looked much greener. Confessions of a white heart bloomed into the colorful spring while the odds drowned away in the deep dark blue ocean. Hands hugged holding the red hot compassion. The faith that eyes will meet again in the purple haze of the sunset, kept guidance clear through the brown dusty storm.
Tears of joy shone in the hazel eyes, and slid softly on the shy pink cheeks, a smile drew lines of attraction in a beautiful pattern. Keeping my song in your eyes will paint my path every night the moon stretches his hands through my window and peaks on my dreams. And then la vie en rouge will dominate our lives into the calm color of serenity.
April 2009

She

2011-04-26T13:50:00.000-07:00

On the cold solid floor, she lay with no strength. Trying to open her eyes, feeling her still warm cheek burning two more tears.
She tried to push herself up; her room was empty, with a hard bed, a mirror by the bare window, and a hidden poster of Che Guevara.
She moistened her dry lips with a taste of even drier blood. Her shivering hand lifted strangles of hair off her forehead, touching the bruise on her face, and sliding down her body. Then; there it was…
She stood up fast; breathing hastily, took off her clothes and turned around to face the feminine portrait in the mirror.
She finally saw it;
Her bruises…her strength;
Her curves…her confidence.
Only now she could see clearly; she will be…she will happen…she will achieve.
"From this day on"; she thought, "Guevara shall see the light…"
Feb. 2008

"let's play a game"

2011-04-21T11:54:00.000-07:00

The sun was shining
And the sky was blue
At the edge of a cliff she stood
Enjoying the view

A sound from behind
Called her name
Startled she turned
"let's play a game"

I give you a string
And I hold an end
I pull, you pull
Beware! I'm not a friend!

The game began and
As she smiled and played
The string lost its threads
And into the breeze it frayed

As she kept pulling
And he with a smile replied
She just started reckoning
The cliff that was behind

Nickelback to all the single ladies

2011-04-15T13:21:00.000-07:00

To all my single friends I quote to you Nickelback's: "They say that a hero can save us I'm not gonna stand here and wait"
As a struggling single gal living in our beloved but still complicated society, I hang out with other struggling gals in Amman in an attempt to release some of life's stresses. We have gone through five hard years in college, most of us have hardly had time to comb our hair let alone find a boyfriend. And so, those years were over and were followed by four more years. Our eyes were full of energy and enthusiasm as we entered the market. Having such drive to be available at both; the workplace market, and the single market.
After those four years have passed; I can take the liberty to say that all of us have achieved so much in the former market, but many of us haven't in the latter. We sat and talked and I observed; "Ammani men are good for nothing!" confident as we are that those years have gained us enough experience to say that. One of us would always try to break the angry silence by making fake promises, that everything will be alright and the time will come when we're all happy and settled with the ones we love.
And then it hit me! We have reached a time at last in Amman that a girl's higher education has become a norm; which makes me and many others so proud. But it seems that a girl's life is targeted towards two materialistic objects that make everything else a small detail in a much complicated network created by these two. A bachelor's degree and a bachelor's wedding ring.
The funny thing is that me and my friends have known several examples of failed marriages that have entered us in confusion. Many marriages have resulted in early-age divorce, depression, and even betrayal.
We have to start using our minds more logically; as long as we understand the importance of having a goal in one's life, we know that it is logically ridiculous to hang our hopes that a single person can solve all our problems. Each phase you have achieved has brought you its own complications, having your first job has introduced you to a killer routine, getting an aspired promotion has handed you tons of paperwork and responsibilities. Then how come a groom would save you from your handmade misery?
I quote again from Nickelback's for all the single gals out there: "It isn't the love of a hero, and that's why I fear it won't do." (November 2010)

born to survive

2011-04-13T12:30:00.001-07:00

Exhausted, depressed, emotional, overworked, underpaid, overwhelmed, lazy, socially limited, sensitive from compliments, allergic from backstabbing, in desperate need for money and a warm hug, hates people lacking general ethics, needs the beat in any routine day, vulnerable when feels mistreated, may produce uncontrollable weeping when sad and/or extremely angry, tired, in love with a phantom, wants unreachable kindness, gives unlimited care, seeks exclusiveness, wants to be left alone, searches for a hold-hand partner, but still lacks confidence in long-lasting sentiments, cannot find home for roots to settle, sad, angry, wants difference in difference, waits for the horizon to shine, pessimistic, surrenders the will to life, begs for forgiveness, dying to break the rules, wants femininity to lead, though needs masculinity to heal, hates endings, detests death, could assassinate goodbye if it was a man, trusts talents, admits defeat to money, capable of exploring all mind powers, struggles with memory, would kill for a confident soul, a fearless tongue and a free urge of creativity, seeks safety and peace of mind and soul, will defy gravity and fly, crazy, yet realistic, funny, yet realistic, will have it all, someday… 100% human, handle with care... (August 2008)

2011-04-12T01:25:00.000-07:00

Along a road that seemed endless and the winds that seemed breathless; she drove. Speechless and helpless, angry from within, she listened to the silence of her memories. A closed vase lay still at the passenger's seat. Lacking a look from her eyes or a sigh. It trembled in its place from the bumps of the roads and her ignoring avoidance. Along that endless road and the rail of memories, she drove.

A store appeared at the edge of sight, she pulled over in an attempt to get something to eat, and to re-cycle the blood in her numbed body. Pulled herself through a vaguely seen door, human figures moved around her in a motion she couldn’t comprehend. She picked what seemed a packet of biscuits, and two bottles of water, headed to the cash with the dry expression that still overtook her face. A crowd of teenagers that seemed overjoyed with excitement crashed into the store, an excitement that they too could not comprehend the surrounding human figures, let alone a dark lonely figure as hers. A guy bumps into her, it seemed to her at the moment that the whole crowd did. 'Sorry' he said, she looked at him and forced a smile. She left the biscuits and pulled the two bottles of water and her numbed body out of the store.

She threw the weight of her heart and soul on the seat that uncomfortably held her through the hours. She stared at the two bottles she brought, wondered why her mind is still figuring things in pairs. Avoiding to look at the tightly closed vase on the passenger seat, moments passed till she could finally restart the car and continue her drive.

As the road gradually became monotonous again, more memories drifted; but now her head repeated the 'Sorry' she heard hours ago, and she was now haunted by the two bottles of water and the sealed vase that trembled more and more.
She stopped the car and her tears finally poured down her face, she moaned and screamed in a voice she could only hear through the empty miles around her. She turned her face to the tightly sealed vase that rested still at the seat next to her; she reached for it and held it tightly to her chest.

'I bought you a bottle of water, I'm Sorry..'