The Horseback Of Pains
He rode the horseback of his pains and
said to the trembling cloud Come, I
will wrap you with my sighs…
That I may catch my wounds red-handed and
my blistering fingers become drunken and
sticks break in the eye of the envious
and seasons jostle with colors...
Bitter Coffee
So bitter is this coffee
so bitter…
it smells like the body of whoredom
the fever of deceit
cruising amid the beds without oars or
sails...
Its sugar is bitter cactus… the heart of a colocynth...
The reeds crackled in the wildfire
The coffee spilled on the nakedness of the scream
A spike grew
turning on a protruding rock
The grass quarreled in front of it
jostling around the banquet
as sects and regimes jostle.
A firebrand From His Soul
He saddled a firebrand from his soul
and said to the spring water:
These fields are parched
and the banks around them are muddy
Go deep into their woods
before the petals sink in their lamentations.
A Flock Of Clouds
Early in the morning
before the mirror combed the sun’s hair she
sat in the balcony of her home
to drink her coffee flavored with the fetidness
of newspapers
the smell of dove’s dung pouring on her shoulders
A flock of clouds passed over her head
spilling the coffee on the table
tearing her daily newspaper
Not scared or troubled
she attended a wound in her hand-palm
as the flock of clouds dissolved in the air…
Cometarii