I Still My Pen

Written: Dec 27, 07

I still my pen because I still my mind. It leads me to places that I have visited time and time again. I am tired of my mind and so I am tired of where my pen goes. 

I still my pen because I still my mind. It leads me to beautiful places that only exist there. I want to share them only with myself and so because I am selfish my pen is quiet. 

I still my pen because I still my mind. It remembers a history told before. It remembers happiness and pain. It remembers laughter and anger. It remembers what cannot be shared, and so it forgets as does my pen. 

I still my pen because I still me mind. Nothing is worthy of the ink. It dries on paper with empty words. There is no story to tell. There is no inspiration.

I still my pen, I still my mind, I still my heart.  

Let Me Take You For A Walk In Damascus

Written: Dec 24, 07

Let me take you for a walk in Damascus
I’ll and show you it faces
I’ll show you its places

Let me take you for a walk in Damascus
You can hear it voices
You can feel its pulses

Let me take you for a walk in Damascus
It is as old as time
It has many stories to tell

Let me take you for a walk in Damascus
You can write your own history
Make your own tapestry

Let me take you for a walk in Damascus
Meet the players
Feel its rhythm

Let me take you for a walk in Damascus
A walk through antiquity
A walk through history

Let me take you for a walk in Damascus
See it through my eyes
See it through new eyes

Let me take you for a walk in Damascus  

The Voice in the Dark

Written: Dec 16, 07

The Argeela bubbles
The sweet scented smoke clouds
I am lost in the headiness of it all
The coals swirl around, hot, red, don’t touch you’ll burn
I in hale deeply, knowing the danger, loving the effect
Her voice bubbles
In the dark, it gurgles, it laughs
In the dark, she is my vice
She is my release
She is my pastime, my leisure
My quiet voice in the dark
The voice of thought, of anger, of laughter and of pleasure
The voice that whispers sweet nothings all around me through smoke
She is my vice that I can not indulge
She is the voice I can not hear
She is my voice in the dark
She is the argeela.