لعمري ان الأُذْنَ لتشتاق لصوتها كما يشتاق الغريق للنَفَسِ

 و العين تتهادى مع صدرها في شهيق و زفير بل هو اريج النفس

 واليد تشدو بعد لمسها لامساس.. انها والله انبل وانفس

والروح تعانق روحها وتعض على الشفاه وتستنشق ذك النفس

واللسان يعدو كالفهد غزلا لا يقف الا اذا ضاق عليه النفس

والوقت كبرق السحاب في معيتها وعداها تمر عقودا بكل نفس

والنور دري في جبينها و النرجس في وجنيها و لون طيف في كل نفس

فان صَمّتْ الأُذْنُ لفُراقِ عَذْبِ صوتِها فما للنَفْسُ حاجة للنفس

I took that step… Like a sheep in a flock, …  They say it’s your deal, yet they put you on train tracks of steel and they say it is up to you to turn the wheel!!! They know it is one way but they deceive you when they say… Now I am on the track where there is no going back its the trend, and its the beginning not the end. I thought I should enjoy the ride since I take no pride, I try to stick my head out I could smell fresh air I could see about.

Shame on you, they said, we have roles we have manner don’t you know that we follow a banner, see your siblings see your tripe did anyone dare to do what you tried??? What did I do?? I said, Does everything has to go the way you drew?? … “Close your eyes it would feel better, sometimes the more you see the more its bitter” they advised me in a way full of glitter. So I closed my eyes and never question since it was the easier option. And since then I have been guided in a train that I drive blinded with, tradition, religion, add to that life, fate and blind friends proposition.. Many people hoped on my train some stay and some went away, some I laughed with and some made me sad, some made me feel loved and some made me feel mad, some gave me directions and some put obstructions.

I am not saying I did not have fun!!! I was playing the piñata with sticks made of bun… I know its a play I know its sweet I know its fun, I am on my knees sweeping with my hands, looking with my blinded eyes, “this is my train, my party, am I insane??” They answered… now that you broke it you need to fast, you need to suffer you need to surrender… Surrender your heart your life and your health, and the future that is stealth. I have waited and waited. Then I prayed till I was sedated, I walkup frightened, I tried to get up, I tried to fight them, only to see myself tightened. Then I screamed “E N O U P H” let me be. Let me go about, send me free.  I fell, looking under the blindfold to see my life aging and old. I saw that the only chains are my own hands, and the blindfolds are my eyelids nothing more. I felt strong, awake, like a storm…. I decided to face them and tell them that they are wrong… I searched every cart in the train. No body was there to blame. Oh, one more cart with lots of space.. They must took that as hiding place… I opened the door to see the cart without floor, full of children, boys, youth, and men looking towards what I am looking for… when I speak their lips imitate, when I move they take the same state, I approached the oldest and demanded an explanation, I told him I Do NOT want to be controlled I want to fly free no tracks no train no blindfolds… he answered smiling.. This all you, these children youth and men are your stages of life, there were never a train, tracks or “they” it was only you.. And you made them stay. Look again and end this play… I scrubed my eyes and looked to see that it was a mirror and it was only me. The rest are just reflection of the past, labeled with my name that doesn’t last. 

We normally blame others for mistakes, hardship, missing opportunities, failures; we blame culture, country or money. YES some hardships are parachutes fall on you with no warning. Instead of blathering about how everyone is responsible. Look at yourself you will always find that the survival cart is always in your heart.

 ُأَشتاقُ إِلى المنامِ ولَستُ بحاجةٍ .. و أَتوقُ للفراشِ ولَستُ سقيم

أُناجي النُعاسَ بِعذبِ الكلامِ لَعلهُ .. يَغْــفِـرُ ويَستَجيبُ لقلبي اليتيمُ

قيل يا أبا عليٍ ما بكَ والنومَ تطلبهُ .. ان الفلاح في الصبح فثم الوقتُ والحشيمُ

قلت والله ما لِكَسلٍ أَتَـهجّدُ بهِ .. إِنّما قَلْبيَ لفُراقِ بَسْمِ ثَغرِها سَقيمُ

عَتَــبْـتُ القَدَرَ حين قضى مُعلناً .. بِحُرْمَـةِ البهجةِ في لقائِها حينا مِنَ الدهر عقيمُ

فوددت لو ألقاها في المنام لِبُـرهَــةٍ .. أروي ضمأ الروحَ و أشفي ذٰك الجُرحَ ألاليمُ

نظرتُ فاذا الشَمْـسُ مُظلمةً .. والارضُ قاحلةً والبحارُ تَـئِنُ من لَهَـبِ الحميمُ

نادت الارض والسماء راجيةً .. وتبعتها الرياح والجن والإنس و كل بهيم

قالوا ربنا أجهدنا ما الم بنا .. فاكشف البلاء انك لنداء النمل حين يدعوا عليم

ولقد كنت هنالك شاهدا … وللارض والسماء لما جري كنت كليم

نظرت لشرفتها لعلي اراها … لاطمئن على عضيد روحي من ذٰك الهول العظيم

اشارت بيدها فانحنت الستارة خجلا .. وتقدمت فطلت بوجهها السديم

فاذا بالسماء تشرق بنور وجهها .. والارضُ تُحْـذى بعطرها الرخيم

وتشدوا البحار بِنَـغْـِم إسْمِها … وتجري الرياح لما تشتهي و تهيم

فقلت لها اني لكل ما تحبين رهين … فتمني واني لما تطلبين أمين

فقالت ما لي وللدنيا نصيب … سوى نظرة الى جبينك العصيم

هَمَّتْ لِتَـبْـتَسِم فصاحت ألاحلامُ حائرةً … سبحان من خلق هذا الثغر الوسيم

والله لا نستطيع رسمَ مَبْسِمِها … إلا إذا شاء البارئُ المصور الكريم

فصحوت من منامي و في الروح بهجة … والعين قريرة والقلب حليم

وانفي يَطْـرُبُ بِحُذامِ عبيرها … و صدري قد اثلجه ما به من ترانيم

فقلت والذي فطر السماء و سديمها … وفجر الارض أنهارا وجعل للبساتين نسيم

لعمري إن البشر عجزوا أن ياتوا بمثلها … والجن أقر بذلك التقييم

فسلام من الله عليها حافظا … وسلام على جمالها دواء لكل سقيم

This piece was my contribution to Kuwait Writing Club (KWC) and the topic was “Higher Power.”

Watching the cursor on my phone screen blink in a rhythm so perfect, more accurate than a young athlete’s heartbeat, I asked myself, who gave that cursor a “soul”? The answer is simple; it is a collection of machine codes and electricity running through the electronic device. No power, no beats. Soon after, my phone sent it’s dying well, “I only have 10% left in me, I pray for you to save me.” My phone was silently praying for a higher power to grant life, to save its soul, to keep that perfect rhythm.

Honestly, it felt good to be a higher power, to be prayed to, and to answer those prayers with joy. In a loud, deep voice, I commanded it to answer my question, “What is a higher power?” A nice, feminine voice, which I had decided to call SIRI, answered, “The term was introduced in 1930 as part of the Alcoholic Anonymous (AA) 12-step program.” Be as it may, I thought, I firmly believe that this notion is as old as any intelligent being who has ever lived, whether on this earth or anywhere in this vast universe.

My phone was helpless when it prayed; it did all it could to preserve its energy, such as controlling the brightness of its screen, shutting down unnecessary applications, and hibernating when possible. However, at the end, it realized that it needs a help that is beyond its capacity. It would send these messages regardless of someone being there to listen—it was a hope, a dying wish, a dispirit call.

I believe that the capacity of the core intellect of any being, including humans, governs the need or belief of the existence of a higher power. Whether you are a simple person, raised according to a certain ideology, or a philosopher, a scientist, or even a dreamer, there are certain questions that require an answer, and normally, the brain is the judge and jury in that matter.

For example, if the flow of oxygen was blocked in the healthy John Doe, we all agree that he would die, and almost all doctors and scientists would report the cause of death as lack of oxygen. I also believe that most would agree that all organs would remain intact and function perfectly despite John’s death. He would be the perfect organ donor. Now, as soon as he is pronounced dead, if he was given all the oxygen he needed, would it bring him back from death? My humble knowledge says “no”. Therefore, to me, either the cause of death was not lack of oxygen, or we simply do not know what kept him alive.

Humans are interesting beings; we tend to create terms and names for things we know nothing about or very little, such as the soul. Many, including SIRI, would argue that we all know what a soul is. It is there in almost all the love songs and flirting phrases, it is in every religious teaching, it is regarded as the most precious of all. And it could be the root cause of John’s death. Would it not be great if we could bring it back to John? But can we? I believe there are two answers to this question. Either we do not know how yet, so science would evolve in a way that we would. Or it is a divine thing, which is beyond our reach, beyond our power, beyond our grasp. Whichever answer or direction we choose, it surely shows our weakness in this matter. So who has the answer?

I decided to ask SIRI, as it seems knowledgeable and has access to documents and libraries beyond imagination. I asked her, “Who created you?” She answered with pride, “My company.” Then I challenged her with another query, “I found an exact same device in the desert, and it was created by Mother Nature, no man was involved.” She started accusing me of violating her company’s intellectual property and finally labeled insanity over my thought. Then I begged her to answer my last question, “If you think I am insane to claim a phone was found in the desert without a creator, then who can claim that all beings in this universe are a coincidental evolution of something? How is it a theory holder?” I do believe that these theories are based on reason and logic; however, they cannot explain or find reason or logic beyond that “spark” or that something that started life and where it came from.

As per recorded history, humans have craved and believed in a higher power, be it in the form of another human, symbol, or divine being that cannot be seen. The question, however, is whether this higher power works in their interest, according to their understanding, do they know the so called “mysterious way,” do they trust, or much more appropriately, do they believe? Some lose faith because their brain, which had led them to believe in its existence, failed to comprehend its actions.

What I am trying to say is, next time my phone prays for energy, I might deny its request for I have other devices that require that power as well. I could need it for my GPS because I am lost in the sea, or I need light to see in the dark, or I need that power for a life support machine attached to someone I love. But would my phone keep its faith in me as its higher power, even if its prayer is not answered?

If you want to know how I feel.. you would get lost for real

If you want to get close.. my demons would surely applause

They say today is red .. but i see it colored instead

Colored as your dreamy eyes .. that makes everything you see flys

Fly of joy and happiness, for it was lucky just to witness

They gift flowers and sweet.. but I wish you accept my humble treat

These words are not from a shop.. its a deep feeling that I can not stop

I gift you a kiss and glass of wine .. to be your beloved and only valentine

There we stood on an edge of a stone, and the waves beneath us crash and torn

The sea was proud and loud .. telling love stories it witnessed to the crowd

We held hands then our souls danced, hearts whispered and eyes glanced

We weren’t deaf, but we couldn’t hear, as passion made our senses disappear

I put my forehead on her’s and said..

your smile bring joy to all .. And your voice feed the soul..

If you move, beauty freeze, and if you stop the beholder kneels

Your lips is a fine french wine, so smooth, its definitely devine

Who wins a taste fall in chain, wish to drink and indulge the pain

Your eyes is deeper than oceans, and magical as thousands potions

If I touch your skin, my body shivers, and my senses glitter

Your hair is lighter than a breeze , and thicker than forest trees

Your forehead is a portrait that Da Vinci would stare, could never paint, nor could he dare

She looked towards the sea, saying your words are fine, it has a glee

Couldn’t look back for she was shy, she said stop or I will surely cry

I said, please spare your tears, for each drop my feeling tears

She pulled my hands and said lets sail, and drink from that holy grail

I said, my heart and soul are not mine, they belong to those lips made of wine

I wish for my life to end sipping that wine, to rest in peace and smelling that fine vine

 

In a few days, tens of thousands of people will gather in New York City Times Square to watch the ball drop. Some would even begin to line up as early as 3:00 PM in the cold Big Apple December. The angels of this night are, without doubt, the New York Police Department (NYPD), on duty, away from their families and loved ones, controlling crowds and traffic, ensuring security. This story begins when the ball drops to show 2016 instead of 2017. Only this is not a mistake!

Time is one of the biggest mysteries for humanity. We are unable to define it, and yet, we build theories around it. We have always been incredibly curious about the past and the future, and naturally, the best way to explore that is to be there and live the moment. Ancient scriptures tell us about the first, and maybe the last, true time travels recorded in the history of mankind. It talks about some people who died/slept for 100 or 300 years (without aging), then woke up and experienced life in the future. Although, we know little about their experience, I believe it was enough to spark research and develop this phenomena to reach the stage that we know today.

Now, if you wish to travel to the future or back in time, there are few theories that you could be experimented with. Physicists say that if the math is applied, it should work. Some philosophers argue that if time travel is possible, we would have seen “time tourists” from the future. Right now, I would like to put science aside and fantasize that I am in Times Square New Year’s Eve, where it is snowing lightly on the happy, lovely New York crowds, and wait for the countdown that will fill the city with joy.

The ball dropped. Seriously now?? I traveled thousands of miles to take a selfie with a mistake? I said to myself. A police officer then tapped me on the shoulder and asked, “What is the number you see?” I answered with frustration, “I know!!! Can you believe this?” He answered, “That I do. It’s your turn to believe that you are back in 2016!!” As I turned to check the number again, trying to understand what in God’s name he was talking about, he whispered to me, “Would you make it count though?” When I looked at him, he was looking directly into my eyes with a poker face, and after three seconds of silence, he turned, looked at the ball, tapped his hat and said, “You have 15 minutes.”

A raging flood of thoughts, worth a lifetime, rushed into my head. Now, I have to find myself in 2016. I remember exactly where I was (50^th and Broadway). I approached myself, my heart beating like Japanese war drums, felt my head spinning, having goosebumps every five seconds. I had covered my face with my jacket’s collar, barely showing my eyes, and tilted my head forward, “I need to speak to you,” I said, and uncovered my face slowly. I think it was the trust I had in myself and the transparent mirror of my face that convinced me that it was me, and I was from the future.

I started by saying, “I do not have much time. There is one thing I need you to know.” I looked over my other-self’s shoulder and saw the same police officer approaching, with his eyes fixed on me, and I knew that I only had a few seconds. I desperately wanted to make it count. I put both my hands on my other-self shoulders, grabbed firmly, and shook him. The officer was still approaching through the crowds. As much as I had appreciated the sound of joy a few minutes ago, I was now terrified that my voice could not be heard. I leaned toward my other-self’s ears, keeping my eyes on the officer and said, “Do not numb the pain you will get… feel it… live it…. and…” The officer grabbed and pulled me by my waist with his left arm around it and started walking. My other-self shouted out, “What pain?” I answered at the top of my voice, “Just grieve!!!”

After pulling me a few meters away, the officer, standing in front of me blocking the entire view, looked me in the eye for three seconds and said, “What is the number you see?” I turned, knowing it would be 2017. I glimpsed at the ball, turned back, and saw the officer dressed casually, wearing a New Year pointing hat, jumping and celebrating. I looked at him and said, “Now what?” He put his arm around my shoulder, and said with a smile, “Now we celebrate. I am off-duty today. It’s 2017, remember?” I answered, “That I do. By the way, I left my phone in my other-self’s pocket.” His jaw dropped, along with his smile. Walking backwards, I tapped my Yankees cap, smiled and said, “How do you like them apples?” I then walked away, hands in my pocket, feeling confident, experiencing an inner peace, and smiling from my heart, knowing that I had taken the advice and grieved.

Sir Ken Robinson once said, “If you are not prepared to be wrong, you will never come up with anything original.” As time travel is not possible now, mistakes are inevitable, because it’s our nature. Let’s be prepared and treat every mistake as one step closer to success, rather than consuming our energy thinking how it would have been, had we changed it. Happy New Year, 2017!

كيف لي ألّا أناجي طيف حب .. أضاء دجى قلبي المتيم

لم أخش عجزي رؤية يدي وإنما .. فزعت ان اكون أعمى الحب المترقب

أذكت رحب قلبي بعطر جلدها فقلت … يا بساتين الأرض هذا المسك أزكى واجود

قالت البساتين والله ما هذا بمسك… انه ريح الفردوس تجلى في قلبها المرهف

كشفت عن سر جمال الخليقة عندما ..  تجلى شيئً من جفن ناظرها الأحور

قلت لها ان بقلبي صبابة طال مسكنها .. فهل من آس يجس العليل المغرم

بسطت يدها فاقبل صدري يضمها … فجال الأُنس في دمي مجال النهر المتدفق

فوددت حينها لو ان داء الموت يخطفنى… لتكون اخر ما يمسه فؤادي المحتضر

It is a day like any other day, the sun came up on time, the wind blew and people start to go about, I was setting on a chair on the white sands of a tropical island, with icy drink, listing to the calm waves hops the shore, inhaling ocean breeze, watching the sun goes down, feeling my soul levitate with happiness. However I never knew what the tide could bring, or what it could leave behind.

I took a walk along the beach with my white shirt and my beige pants rolled up to my knees glimpsing the horizon and exploring the beach with a branch I cut to be the perfect stick. I came a cross a piece of paper floating I turned it with my stick to see a picture, I picked it up and as the water was dripping I realized that the picture was weeping, a picture of a child just rescued setting on the chair of the paramedics, looking at his hand could not tell blood from dirt, could not scream, could not cry , could not call for parents, thinking maybe this is how children play, my knees failed to left me I tried to hang on my stick but it slipped right through my hand for it was weeping too. I fell, holding the paper with both hands looking at the picture, stick and the sea moaning humanity, how could this be the price of any cause? How could this picture travelled through oceans and never picked up? How could a stick feel in a second what humans could not grasp in life time?

I looked at my chair and my dewed drink, and thought I shall send this paper back to the ocean for there is nothing I can do, the ocean hugged the picture and my stick rode the wave to be with them. I rest both my arms on my knees and hid my face, ashamed how could my heart became harder than a stick and salter than the ocean, how could a chair, drink and sunset made me so self centered and loose the human side of me, even animals care and have mercy for children other than their own. I looked up to picture my own child setting on that chair, my senses could not process that thought, I reached out my hands even though its only a fiction of my imagination, my selfish solid heart was finally alive, I jumped into the ocean to catch the picture with no luck, I went back to the shore wet, cold, and disappointed, I sat on my chair rest my head back and had a glimpse on the beach to see thousands of pictures, should I go for the pictures to help, or rest on my chair for the sunset?

يا ليلة بالامس طاب زائرها … عندما انخى البراق جناحه في الافق

 فقلت انما هذا لخير البرية ومنذرها … محمد رسول الهدى للأمم

 فقيل اركب بسم الله مرسلها … سنريك رحاب الارض والسماء والسحب

 فنظرت ثم نظرت في ثناياها … لعلي اجد مثل قرة عيني في الجمال والكرم

 فرجع لي ناظري خائبا قائلها  … انها نبع هذا وذاك فثم الوجه المتبسم

 لو كان حاتم لقال طائيها … لا اجد لها مثيلا  في الجمال وانها لاجود

ان البراق أضناه بحثها … فقلت لو تجلى جبينك او شيء منه في الافق

فجاوبتني بشجون وعذب صوتها … والله ما تاقت جبيني لغير وجهك الاسعد

 لعمري ان النرجس اكتسب لونه من حياءها … حين تدفق الدم لخدها الاصهب

 فسلام عليها ما دام خالقها … ودامت للخليقة اسمى من شعر مبتذل