Marbels were left on the carpet,
The way we studied arabic letters out,
We loved arabic teachers,
Since they were the closest thing to the sun,
We picked wings as the dream,
Since the night cup is filled to the brim,
Snap necks to the sun,
Then snap back.
Yesterday i sat alone at the library,
I was full,
Today it was full,
Someone talked about art, then language,
And i listened to no one,
I was busy with language and art.
We dashed by the sea,
We’re the new rivers wave,
A new set of medals,
Hanged from the eyes of her days,
Our hero/monster bets changed seasonally,
According to which house of young hearts appear,
We appealed to all the suns of the world,
Except for the good hearts rocketeers.
Light stays home,
As long as home is out of reach,
My heart is still learning each day,
That the meaning of prayer is still far away,
And our meaning is what we paint,
Both my eyes conceived a different light stray,
My heart, on the same page of this unknown,
As the many empiral books we delay.
Since when my heart excepts a spring,
And colors are used to sort poems out,
Since when i read my old ones and grin,
Twinkling from the promised one and ones to come,
Since when you re-learn the entire everything again,
At 25 from a shrinking holy violet,
A scratch through your souls is when,
Art is like walking for the first time,
You’re reborn, you’re reborn, from pain,
Not of yours alone, of everyone’s,
Collection figurines under a tree,
The stem is colored by a marble pen,
Like you,
Fine you, from the basement.
zaki monzer 