The first left.
The second and third.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Going becomes a hype.
I feel it salty to leave.
I feel fever to go.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
They go with pleasure.
What’s going on?
Popop. Pop. Popop.
Is it a must to go?
My ears are buzzing.
The world’s reeling.
Maybe, it’s the last.
Maybe, it’s over.
We are in safe.
Stayed many of us.
Out of the yellow mass.
I told you.
Don’t mess with me.
Today’s been a slaughter ordered;
Abrahamic hocus-pocus, fairy-tale,
Like Artemis replaced his daughter with a sheep,
We are doing the same;
Following a social construct,
Taking away thousands of life;
Sheep are crawling in mere bloodbath:
“Look! It’s running towards paradise!”
Not even a minute has passed
that the last breath left the still warm body,
but the people eviscerate,
and ate the inside organs already.
What holiness, what a story behind!
A mad man losing his mind
to imagine a sky-sent message:
Yo, murder your son or just do me sacrifice!
Those of nature – lions, wolves and leopards,
are killing for the sake of killing
or either for surviving the circle they’re aligned,
but we paint children stories with bloody body parts.
*E’ib Mubarak : It is related to Aid El Adha the celebration of Abrahamic story for what all Muslims around the world slaughter sheep as a symbolic sacrifice. The original wish is A’id Mubarak that means Happy Celebration. The title of the poem as E’ib Mubarak means “Disdained Celebration”.
I have dream…
That has never been..
At the end,
Only to say:
Only an and..
On an and-ending.
It’s an and,
That never ends.
As well as the end
Will never end,
By saying only: and…
An and & an end.
There’s no harder than C#,
For it’s object-oriented,
Tho life makes me see sharp,
Cuz I have no object to be oriented.
I’m from Gawnbeck,
I’ve hit the road.
The road hit me back,
That was rather rude.
On a vicious night at a dark moment,
the castle was dim as a forsaken castle was meant –
on a scarlet night at a sharp moment,
the midnight hanged the bell for a horrid event:
No living souls could lurk upon such ghouls
that appeared to live as the bells rang –
horrible silence followed the wake of the hollows
when the gargoyles started to dance :
Petrified demons who followed no reasons,
only to crush the fear through the lungs;
they answered no seasons, but the bell’s grievance
calling upon a soul’s last song;
As the midnight was screaming – the only hearing,
and there could be no moving caught,
in earnest, no living eyes could be able at seeing
gargoyles mischieving at such a terrible sort:
No movement at seeing, but a terrible feeling,
sweeping the eyes around them –
while they just kept dancing and stealing
parts from the soul – never retrieving…
til, you become one of them in that eternal dark moment.
People’s bowling, time’s rude scrolling,
The nightmare we’ve been through…
Monsters rawling, mountains rolling,
But I’m still in love with you…
Social butterfly: A person who jumps from one social group to another, somewhat being accepted in all of them, but not really belonging to any of them without having deep connections with any.
So, here I am again; leaving a life and entering another.
Often, I cut socializing as if I don’t even bother
Cause it is and it causes a great pain to me and even other;
I am here today, then nowhere tomorrow
As if my whole existence were a repeating funeral
Like a careless butterfly flying from flower to flower.
Before I would take the blame on this horrible misbehavior,
Understand that I am not doing it as volunteer;
To see the truth that I’m also a victim here
Take my shoes and listen how I feel:
Emptiness and loneliness are my biggest fear –
Right away I get a life, I feel empty as if not being there,
From a minute to another I feel myself lonely,
Leaving a life and trying another that homes me.
You’d understand it if I demonstrated, but I really need to leave now, good bye homie!
With condolences for the times I stole from thee,
I’m really not a thief, but I felt so empty and lonely;
To borrow a life, none of you’d have bestowed me.
Life always has a simple key;
If it’s not its harakat, then its hara-kiri…
I’ve just passed two decades and four years,
Living for two years in Algiers.
My life’s been a funny thriller;
Clinging to remain a caterpillar.
France for French and bass for dance;
I fully maintained my old stance.
The same faith that makes a moth nocturnal,
Made me write my grotesque journal.
Day and night through polyglotting;
I spoke weary words and hodgepodging.
My talk’s been strange as a stolen stone;
Mort satire arranged my lonely tone.
For that I’ve got beard and scrub,
I gotta be a philolover language bug.
More than twenty witty years of Earthism,
My fortune fooled the laws of Murphy’s.
Like coming from the blue, apathetic;
I’ve been walking on the gloom, my path is epic.
Overall my karma’s rather up than down,
For that, I’m thanking Allah until now.
Finally, To sum up my level up,
I clashed up twenty-four years in a cough.
Should I look for meaning in life if I know
I am following my own product?
Kill or beget; we are all following a flow –
Myself, I am barely able to deduct
Or anticipate the so-called reality I undergo.
Have I missed an important act?
A purpose I should have known a long ago?
Cup all of my years in your hands as a fact
Of that I was living, and throw ’em with a blow;
Coffee and cigarettes will distract me while you’re doing so.
(Should I kill myself, or have a cup of coffee? – Albert Camus)