Wind is Thistles
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Metaphysics, you see, brings bitter friends The chorus of saints, prophets and sages break in The mind probes the night When senses go to the place by the side post The place where Love is buried Eyes open in the darkness A touch of a foot on earth Grounded and a brew of questions grow…
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I was lucky that I revised the poison of the scorpion beforehand. Paralysis In a bottle of white powder, I find the answers What time is it? I asked His voice a music of sound and delight Then I sighed inwardly and went to sleep …All the rescues of questioning wrapped in soft piece of…
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God’s love rebounds softly from the side of a golden tray. The tray may grow dark and dangerous. It’s worth the world if you knew Krav Maga. And I was helpless to protect myself. Then the man behind the desk said, “I’m a fool, I know but my offer stands. I still offer a decent…
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He was an animal now For attacking, biting Hiding and hunting Living only to preserve himself And his Family …The wind screamed over and his eyes were white; his eyelids stitched with blood. Suddenly she was afraid She remembered the man Lying dead in the bushes With a gun in her hands For sex was…
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Peace when kneeling at the high altar Freedom when she was dressed in my jacket Madness when I wrote my words on her pale skin We die everyday Almost everyday Like Never Ever Land La passion est l’esprit de la vie et la patience est la vie de l’esprit We still remember When the days…
Hadi Atallah 