poetry
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This world is evil. It should be destroyed before it destroys us. “No,” my heart said. “We will fight this thing. We will win over it. We will have our chance.” Like sheep before the butcher. My heart never resisted or even protested before. All of the time, it had been trying to rescue something…
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Tell me of Truth and its untamed nature The sage then says: Warm blood runs from my forehead. And there is love in her voice. It whispers through the mangroves. And her beauty lies winking. Never to disappear. Always to be heard of. …There is excitement in her hunt.
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The hero stood before his land, filling his lungs, and history raged and flamed in the back of his eyes, and poetry too, for the hundreds of years of his people’s subjugation were cut deep in him. Now he was trapped as his people were always trapped and would be until he revealed to his…
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On the following day I go to work Without my briefcase With a flat white Tablet, which Fear told me To place on My tongue …I think that should do it.
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Your worst enemy when I’m with you is the peach between your oiled up legs. A string of filthy words and maybe a painful thing that might make this whole thing difficult to go on. And if there is hope, as just possibly there might, become conscious of our own strength and air for Love. …
Hadi Atallah 