Saturday, November 25, 2006

separate unrelated moments

I wrote this last January, a few days after the year has started. However, it is a timeless post since these little pleasures will always make me content at any given day...

sipping a nicely brewed coffee with the right proportions of ingredients.. a warm and soft hand holding mine in a cold weather.. a nice short poem that speaks of feminine beauty and passionate love.. meeting people that are so tolerant to others.. a tender song that can make me hum and sway.. a cozy and intimate chat with a friend where we share our weaknesses and fantasies and silly stories.. having some tea with mint in a calm atmosphere after a nice meal.. being tucked in bed and reading a nice book that makes me wonder what surprises will be discovered in the next line.. looking at someone's eyes and discovering thrugh their tender looks how much i mean to them.. getting to know new people and finding we have a lot in common regardless of religion, culture, or the way we were brought up.. having an instant same wavelength with someone whom i meet for the first time.. smelling herbs on my way to hussein.. having a warm chat with someone i love until we discover that a very long time has passed so quickly.. remembering some delightful memories from a previous event or trip.. the moment i get tears in my eyes when i feel God's mercy and forgiveness.. thinking of someone and suddenly finding this person calling or emailing me.. the look in a girl's eye after our lips touching and enjoying a long kiss.. walking in the rain and letting some rain drops touch my skin.. sailing in a feluca in summer, at sunset, with a clear sky, and enjoying the night lights of charming cairo.. doing a favor to someone and finding a look of appreciation in their eyes and a pat on my back.. turning on the radio to find my favorite song playing.. walking into a place and finding strangers' eyes looking at me and smiling as if saying: 'i was waiting for you'...

* * *

i'm so at peace with myself tonight, it's unbelieveable! but at least now i know the influence on me of listening to fairouz while tucked in bed with dimmed lights. if i am sane enough i'd say all the experiences and moments above are my new year's resolutions... for them to repeat again and again. i immensely, wholeheartedly, enjoy each and every thing i mentioned above. i'll call this year a year of quality time and precious moments.

Sunday, November 19, 2006


... is our universal and romantic love the same as our love for seasons.. does it come and go like the weather changes.. today we can love summer.. with its heat and fun-loving mood.. with swimming in salty healing water and getting exposed to the tanning sun rays that turn our skins to attractive bronze.. with its outgoing atmosphere that makes us all unable to bear the staying-at-home winter syndrome.. summer, which ignites love stories and extinguishes them with its departure.. as if they were hibernating and waiting for the sun rays and cold sunset breeze to be alive..

.. but when all this starts to leave us.. when the stories end abruptly, or agreeingly.. when the cold breeze is not associated with sunset alone anymore.. and when the sun starts to subside its heat on us and takes her bronze color that she gifted us with during her blazing summer life.. when winter starts to crawl on us like a slowly-progressing enemy..

.. as soon as he arrives in town we salute it by putting more clothes, as if celebrating the coming of a winning army with their decorated army suits.. we start to prefer more cozy gatherings.. coffee producers start to have sky-rocket profit margins.. is it to their interest, or ours? winter, with all its gloomy atmosphere and deadening life style that makes us think twice before going out.. rain, which cleans the streets and cars from dust as if cleansing our souls from our mistakes and sins that we didn't repent yet.. cold and rainy weather.. which makes us hold and rub hands with a lover looking for warmth.. is it physical or spiritual warmth we're aspiring to? or maybe it's just an unconvincing excuse to hold hands and becalm the earthquakes erupting inside us.. or maybe to agitate them again? her eyes tell me stories.. one story is about not believing my excuses.. my eyes shyingly agree.. she smiles.. i smile back.. while still holding her hands.. and playing with her fingertips like a pianist striking the piano keys for the most beautiful musical piece that was ever created..

.. is our love constant, or does it vary with place and time and words.. what do we love more.. the fresh juice with an umbrella on top in summer to keep us brisk.. or the strong coffee in winter keeping us warm..

January 23, 2004

على إسم مصر

دي مقاطع بحبها من قصيدة "على إسم مصر" لصلاح جاهين
على اسم مصر
مصر .. التلات أحرف الساكنة اللي شاحنة ضجيج
زوم الهوا وطقش موج البحر لما يهيج
وعجيج حوافر خيول بتجر زغروطة
حزمة نغم صعب داخلة مسامعي مقروطة
في مسامي مضغوطه مع دمي لها تعاريج
ترع وقنوات سقت من جسمي كل نسيج
وجميع خيوط النسيج على نبرة مربوطة
اسمعها مهموسة والا اسمعها مشخوطه
شبكة رادار قلبي جوه ضلوعي مضبوطة
على اسم مصر
على اسم مصر
على اسم مصر التاريخ يقدر يقول ما شاء
أنا مصر عندي أحب وأجمل الأشياء
باحبها وهي مالكه الأرض شرق وغرب
وباحبها وهي مرميه جريحة حرب
باحبها بعنف وبرقة وعلى استحياء
واكرهها وألعن أبوها بعشق زي الداء
واسيبها واطفش في درب وتبقى هي ف درب
وتلتفت تلقيني جنبها في الكرب
والنبض ينفض عروقي بألف نغمة وضرب
على اسم مصر
مصر النسيم في الليالي وبياعين الفل
ومرايه بهتانة ع القهوة .. أزورها .. واطل
القى النديم طل من مطرح منا طليت
والقاها برواز معلق عندنا في البيت
فيه القمر مصطفى كامل حبيب الكل
المصري باشا بشواربه اللي ما عرفوا الذل
ومصر فوق في الفراندة واسمها جولييت
ولما جيت بعد روميو بربع قرن بكيت
ومسحت دموعي في كمي ومن ساعتها وعيت
على اسم مصر
مصر السما الفزدقي وعصافير معدية
والقلة مملية ع الشباك .. مندية
والجد قاعد مربع يقرا في الجرنال
الكاتب المصري ذاته مندمج في مقال
ومصر قدامه اكتر كلمة مقرية
قريتها من قبل ما اكتب اسمي بإيديا
ورسمتها في الخيال على أبدع الأشكال
ونزلت أيام صبايا طفت كل مجال
زي المنادي وفؤادي يرتجف بجلال
على اسم مصر

Saturday, November 11, 2006

a vague distance

... don't know whether to laugh or to cry.. whether to bless or to curse .. a mix of thoughts and reflections.. the happy, the bad, and the ugly.. the demise of a great man.. and a life of a beautiful girl.. which one is causing tears.. and which is stirring smiles..

.. have you ever felt like there's so much to say, yet nothing to be said.. have you felt like you're literally bursting with feelings and emotions.. yet you can't let them out.. or even expose part of them.. for no obvious reason.. maybe for lack of words, or the fact that they won't have any effect once they're out.. like all the previous ones.. maybe desperation.. or fear.. maybe none and it's all nonsense..

.. her blurry image keeps popping into my mind.. is it blurry? or is it me who wants to see her blurry? .. my mind's eye has her in the background all the time.. like a sky.. omnipresent.. like a knocking hammer.. painful and persistent.. but I can hear her clearly.. with her cute little voice.. with her bright face, like a kid's smile on a swing.. with her unmatched beautiful and innocent soul.. shining, like the yellow ray of the sun.. with her tear-shedding tenderness.. like the fall of a morning dew from a green leave to quench the thirst of a root.. how tender and generous is nature! .. is she here only in my mind.. or far away from my heart.. a vague distance..

.. a man.. with his wise white beard.. a man of respect and integrity.. that turned all common men to null.. a man of strong stance.. swearing never to abandon the ship until it's safe and sound.. a real man who was an idol for all the brave ones around.. one of a kind in an era where fear and humiliation are the most common values around for those who are ugly enough to betray their people.. alas, his life was taken gravely.. but lucky him.. he lived as a hero, and died as a martyr.. just like every other man would dream of his life to be.. is his soul incarnated again through us, or is it far away from earth abandoning the cowards.. a vague distance...

March 22, 2004

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

أحبائي لجوليا بطرس

This is the latest song by my beloved Lebanese singer, Julia Boutros. She made this song after listening to the speech of Hasan Nasrallah last September after the war with Israel that lasted almost 34 days.

I met Innocence

I met

Beautiful dark eyes
Paralyzing one's being
Purifying his life of misdeeds, and
Setting his account straight with the Almighty

Mesmerized and dumbfounded I became
Struck by a brief unintentional gesture of her aura
With her chestnut hair
Crowning a captivating, ticklish smile

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

masters of war

I listen to Bob Dylan a lot these days, and I'm trying to collect all his works, or at least most of it. This song below is really one of my favorites by him. Other than the beautifully made music and the great performance of Bob, the lyrics just says a lot about wars and whoever takes it up as a trade. With all what's happening around us these days and with all the destruction and loss of innocent souls everyday, this song pops into my mind often..


come you masters of war
you that build all the guns
you that build the death planes
you that build the big bombs
you that hide behind walls
you that hide behind desks
i just want you to know
i can see through your masks

you that never done nothin'
but build to destroy
you play with my world
like it's your little toy
you put a gun in my hand
and you hide from my eyes
and you turn and run farther
when the fast bullets fly

like judas of old
you lie and deceive
a world war can be won
you want me to believe
but I see through your eyes
and I see through your brain
like I see through the water
that runs down my drain

you fasten the triggers
for the others to fire
then you set back and watch
when the death count gets higher
you hide in your mansion
as young people's blood
flows out of their bodies
and is buried in the mud

you've thrown the worst fear
that can ever be hurled
fear to bring children
into the world
for threatening my baby
unborn and unnamed
you ain't worth the blood
that runs in your veins

how much do I know
to talk out of turn
you might say that I'm young
you might say I'm unlearned
but there's one thing I know
though I'm younger than you
even Jesus would never
forgive what you do

let me ask you one question
is your money that good
will it buy you forgiveness
do you think that it could
i think you will find
when your death takes its toll
all the money you made
will never buy back your soul

and I hope that you die
and your death'll come soon
i will follow your casket
in the pale afternoon
and I'll watch while you're lowered
down to your deathbed
and I'll stand o'er your grave
'til i'm sure that you're dead