Notebook #1

 

Ntebook #1

I never had a notebook in my life.. I shall write down random thoughts..observations… ideas..

Can 1 cal milk, cow juice ?

Work is getting to me

2omorrow is the last day of the year…2011 was a hell of a year..i loved it…though it broke my heart

Elizabeth Taylor…

Lost glamour

Jewels lost

Auction

Drama

Bitches Fighting

 

Charmed by the beauty of the flames he sang at the ruin..in theatrical costume

 

The end is nigh…is just around the corner

No RESOLUTIONS

 

Gypsies beautiful dark eyes enchantresses dancing barefoot around tall fire and violin players whose fingers flew up and down the fingerboard so fast..only a deal with a dark spirit could explain this talent

 

Knowing things make you smart
But knowing yourself makes you wise

The Flute

صوت الناي …بحة الفلاح …وجع الأرض …رفيق الدرب …نديم الليل …حبيب…غريب

شجن و حنين …طفولة …ذكريات ..حب

The sad flute..the sound of the beginning..the alpha..the first chord in the symphony of life

An ache from the heart..a shout from the soul…the earth dances to the sad notes..

Do you hear it coming from afar??

صوت المعذب …الذبيح ..انين الحبيب على النهر

حضور يملىء وحشة المكان …يهزم الزمان ..يرحل في كل الأقمار

The dark shadow of the player…under a palm tree…overlooking the river…the river of love…death..life and hate

Let me swim…me and my companion…let us join the current…the waves…dump us beyond the white island..let us pass the fire

Order of Things

I used to be
A dolphin in the south sea

A horse grazing in the fields of Andalusia

An owl gazing at humans..with amber eyes in the Black Forrest

A book fresh from the printing house..new..clean..expensive.

A pair of silk and velvet corset…hand made…for a lady who would lounge pet a jaguar..and eat chips

A red rose..vibrant…in a sea of blue black hair…Arabic hair.. or Persian.. a hair that reeks with culture

A fine bone china teacup and saucer…Victorian..prim..proper…along with a scone .. maybe some double cream and jam

A boulevard of broken dreams…shattered illusions…harsh realities

A used paperback in the 50 cents pile…used..stained…torn

A washed pair of stockings..nude…some holes..not mended…laying all night at the sink..smell like cigarettes..sweat and other fluids

Ghosts

She sat….in front of him.. in her black and white figure hugging retro dress. swirls of white material in the darkness of the black jersey fabric .. a yin yang of fabric..onyx and alabaster, a ..her hair in a dark brown pixie cut.. her face prominent.. the geography of her visage…the dark blue eyes…an abyss of an ocean… a dark Burmese sapphire.. her nose white…delicate…rosy…one of her best features he thought…an exquisite mouth…not to thick nor thin red lips..was that lipstick…or the byproduct of genes..who knows…only a kiss would reveal the secret..

Her white..or beige..maybe cream or was it egg shell purse with the tortoise shell handle..rich brown with spots..was it really tortoise or an imitation…too much details streaming into his mind…  too much data..colors..details…syntax..adjectives…all pouring into his mind..conquering his brain..he never noticed her fingers..long..manicured red nails..cocktail rings..a huge octagonal onyx with some gold and diamonds on one of her fingers..

Silence…utter silence…is it dream or reality.. did the Gods decide to play it right this time..toss the right die.. Are they willing to make me happy.. give me an illusion..a mirage..a false hope..here I am in a desert walking…barely living…clinging to hope..illusions..dilutions..hysterical dreams..nightmares..ghosts visiting my soul at night..Lillith stealing the boy from the crib..slashing his throat with a cracked piece of glass..early departure..early kingdom..death of dreams…visitation of dark haunted places… the sadness enveloping us…clinging hopes..shattered reality..

He gazed into her soul…fragile..fragmented soul..shards of thoughts…a penny for every shard..she laughed…I’d be so rich by now…An evil laugh laced by some bitter almond..or was it some cyanide from your nan’s stash…an onyx cigarette holder appears on the table…did you just remove it from your purse…I have no idea…a pack of blue green St. Moritz ..and gracefully the cigarette is in the holder… i arch forward and light it with your gold plated St. Dupont ..inhale ..once …twice…and a blue smoke is exhaled into my face…invade my nostrils…fills my  lung with a burning sensation…amid this smoke your face was shining.. a halo of light surrounds it.. an image of a saint.. or the devil in disguise.

I came from the past..a broken home..a Victorian bleak childhood…thrown into the streets of the city..had to fend for myself…sold myself to provide for a family…snatched off by an older man…a mistress…a slave…he taught me everything…a lady of the night.. a dark mistress..a glamourous flower in the daylight.. a venus trap in the night…leather and lace…silk…velvet…just give me a whip..a rope…and close your eyes..enjoy the slashes..the burnt skin..the pain shooting up your spine…let the pain be fruitful and multiply..Enjoy each sting..bite..scratch..choke and whip she said…I was in awe…all that shaky moral under those layers…indeed the devil in disguise…

Would you like another coffee… a snap…off button…what…another coffee…the same brunette server who brought the espresso…No thanks …one is more than enough…the reverie necklace snapped..the gems are all over the floor..the train stopped…technical difficulties…what shall he do…stare blankly at the crimson wall…another frames before his eyes…his eyes shocked…surprised…bitter reality…where did she go…What was she..the burden of the mystery… rises up…throws his coat on his shoulder..pushes through the crowds toward the glass door..pushes it open…slippery and cold…the night before his eyes and he steps into it…

Cafe…She..A Shadow

He sat in the furthest table in the cafe.. tucked back against a
crimson wall…a wall of mini pictures in tiny delicate
frames..various frames..circles..squares and some odd
triangles..gazing into the wall…that wall… a curious wall of
shapes and forms…loving the wall..staring at it…having a moment of
oneness with it..sharing an experience in a shabby cafe in an alley in
this city.. a city of no name.. a city like all others..yet a special
city to his heart

An espresso.. in a delicate white china cup… a freshly baked biscoti
on the side plate..untouched…the cup half consumed.. He is there and
not there…lost in his mind…consumed by the thoughts of
love..,war..damages..black holes..blue eyes…mermaids..a seaside
rendezvous..a fascination with brunettes.. a sort of obsession..an
observation…an obsession to conquer a city,, break the
walls..shatter the windows…live within the building…adore
it…burn within it.. a martyr…mm the sweet taste of death on a
sunny morning .. in a burnt city…

لحظة من العمر …ترقص امام المعبد …امام تمثال اله الذهبي ..تتمايل
على صوت موسيقا السماء .. كان يحلم ..يسافر عبر القارات ..جالسا وحيدا في
المقهى ..احلام تتداخل ..تتمازج ..كوكتيل من كل شيء ..احلام الطفولة
..ادمانه على السراب ..المنفى ..الحب ..المشي ليلا وراء ضوء الكوبري
…يبحث عن غجرية ..عاشقة ..تعشق الحرية ..الحياة ..الشؤون الصغيرة
..لعبة الحياة .. المطاردة .. الحرب و السلم ..شهيدا تعمد بالنار ..نار
الحب ..الكره و اللذه

Lost in the Dalism life of his soul..oblivion to what is happening
around him..to the sound of cars..the horns of various models.. the
bustling traffic of the inner city…Lost in his thoughts..into
forests of sin..cities of rent tents…villages of blue walls..
haunted castles…empty beaches..a feet on an abandoned beach…a
snake curled around a naked body…the image of death before his
eyes.. the fear in the eyes…the coldness of the marble floor..

Where..When..How..Why.. are words he never use…he just inquire about
What.. the W that he cares for and about…What is she…never Who is
she..or Where she is from..the What is what matters…what is her soul
made of …light .. angelic matter…hatred…craziness.. musical
notes jumping up and down an unstable scale…fragments of thoughts
bound together by a silk cord.. a single cord…is she delicate or
tough..rude or sweet.. is she too sweet that would cause tooth ache..
dark chocolate with an orange core… or mint.. or maybe crunchy..
shall he pursue her.. or leave her to her own…
thrill…factor..hunt..be hunted…love and be loved said the guru

What will he do…. A shadow is coming into his view box… he just
sees a shadow..a curvy shadow taking shape in front of him… What is
she he whispers to the espresso …..