LIVING IN THE STRANGE

عايش في الغربة

Archives (page 8 of 14)

Chase

Chase

I rode my bicycle

Faster than the wind

Branches and leaves

Of an olive tree

Grew out of my pants and

A giant black cape

Carried by the wind

Cracked as

I escaped

The dislocated world

Chasing me.

Morsi
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To Love

To Love

I might be dead

As I feel your hand

I might blindly die

As I feel your hand

And you might live

And let me live

Alive or dead

As I feel your hand

Without a smile

Without a cry

As it touches

Soft and warm

At my throat

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Made In Humanity

Made In Humanity

A seven-year old child

Blew herself up

On the news

The next day

Minds were sharpened

For the lunch-break talk

To save us

From ourselves

Before we went home

To cheap wine and

Free Internet porn

And turned in

To the late news

Showing a man

With a really big dick

Who fucked everything

For the next child

In line

And we applauded

As we watched

What it was like

To be made in Humanity

Morsi
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