Burn incense 

it makes sense

Music is rockin 

Mama is rockin

The wine has been served

Up goes my nerve 

And I’m sitting here writing this down. 

The gray sky is covering the world that I know and it’s dreary and eerie and ever so cold. 

I embrace the feeling because it’s beautiful and it speaks to my soul. It speaks to my soul. 

Will you fall into the magic with me?

Can you let the serenity be free?

Can you let yourself be a part of the Joy you have in your heart? surrender to the moment it’s the only one you got

It doesn’t take a lot. The

street lights are on.

There’s a mist about the air. It’s subtle. I find myself getting lost in it. No rebuttal.

The smoke from the incense is playing with me. Lavender patchouli and red wine and me. Isn’t life grand? Say you understand. ….And music

-somber days 

rainy haze

raindrops play 

whimsy

-depicting trees

at ease

and too, the leaves 

magically

-brilliant hues

sky and earth 

clouds burst 

quench thirst

-obstinate

lightning bolt

thunder jolt

wind afloat

unpredictably 

-rainbow

aglow

pot of gold? 

mischievously 

-m

Thinking about what to write in this real deep place right now and these are the words I put down…

An upside down smile is a frown. 

All thoughts are circular. 

My neighbor just distracted me but in a beautiful way. He’s playing his guitar, alone. 

White wine will do but red wine is preferred. 

Listening to devil woman. 

The wind is subtly rolling in. 

It’s muggy but the wind is mildly cool. 

Why do I keep wanting to move? 

I’ll have to delve into that one a bit deeper. Also why should i delve? I wanna move. 

That’s my groove, I suppose. 

My new favorite word is “fantastic” but “groovy is my favorite.”

Nirvana In Bloom is on now. Holy cow! He was amazing! Or should I say fantastic?!! 

Chuckle. 

Another sip of wine, i had a thought but it escapes me….

Oh yeah I thought I really enjoy myself and I know that because I prefer to be alone a lot. 

For that one, that’s all I got. 

Why did I panic when I shaved my head. Hair grows. I’ve done it so many times. I have a good shaped head. 

Like my mom. I miss you Yuma. 

You always told me I had a beautiful face and that I should keep my hair short except maybe we should “fix” my nose

Laugh out loud. A mother knows. 

Another sip of white wine. 

His strumming persists and “Show me how”is on now. 

I’m groovin. 

Funny how my time and your time are the same time but not the same “time”, so to speak. 

I’m questioning whether you got that or not. It’s a lot but think about it….

Thoughts are circular. 

I just read what I wrote and started to analyze my thoughts. I discovered myself checking my punctuation. OCD? 

Fuck! I need to stop doing that in this state of mind. I? Or me? Whatever. 

Figure it out. Be clever. 

I just scrolled up to check again but I immediately stopped myself. Progress? Perhaps and then Don’t regress popped into my head.

I took a picture of my scene right now. And I thought how do I insert this? I figured it out…

Hell n back – Bakar. 

The strumming stopped. 

One of my favorite Arabian songs just came on. Amr Diab “Lealy Nahari”. So pretty

Auto correct kept changing it but I fought back! They’re so ducking annoying! 

Ray, your cactus accidentally got split so now I’m growing it again. I swear that must’ve been what you meant! “Newborn” you said. 

It’s funny how I never realized how much I loved you. And now your constantly in my head! Always been in my heart…

Thanks for showing up when you do yakhooy(brother)! It’s cool as hell. 

I Say to you all farewell. 

Wine refill….

There’s too much. I really could go on. But I’m buzzed so now I’m just gonna enjoy my music. 

Thoughts truly are circular.

-M

We lost our way in the littered streets of rebellion. 

And allowed for our being and our culture to slip into the cracks of the pavement and into the potholes of cultured destruction. 

We wanted freedom to be non-Palestinian. We yearned for America. 

But the fiber of the umbilical cord strewn so delicately, yet so powerfully never ceased in its hold and it was clear no matter how hard we tried to lacerate the connection we couldn’t cut it away and It was indestructible. 

And ay did our mothers pray for our well being and safety and ay did our fathers pummel into our psyche the pride of culture! 

“You will speak Arabic in the home for English is inevitable!”

Thank you Yuma and Yaba! 

And experience threw the challenges at our feet and disabled our stance. We shook unsteadily but never wavered from the truth because we were incapable. It was after all sewn into the veins of our Palestinian selves. And time came and went and the ground steadied itself in our grasp of understanding and non-understanding of what and who we were and of how and where we came from. 

The fragrance of our kitchens somehow etched their way into the depths of our souls. And the olive trees did grow. 

“*They loved us as if they had no more breath in their body to love anyone else.*”

And we lost our breath loving them back. 

                                -m

*samya shunnarah*

-Where did the happy go? Where is the life in her eyes? Now there’s a gaze, I don’t know, her smile a disguise.  

Gentle and broken soul, right from the core to take away all the pain then make sure there’s no more, I’d walk to the ends of the earth, I’d battle any war.

-Strong as the wind in its rage, I know she is. 

Flightless, a bird in a cage, gentle, courageous. 

Calm, like before the storm, a shelter, safe and warm. She is beautiful. She is beautiful and I love her.

-If I could lift just a little sorrow and help you breathe when you can’t breathe,  if I could,  I’d promise you tomorrow would erase the reason that you grieve. 

She is broken at the core, the girl I knew is no more. 

Yet she is beautiful ever more and I love her.

-She believes in believing. She has faith in her faith and trusts that the answers are safe, tucked away. 

Still as the time forwards and life moves along as everyone’s living and it feels somehow wrong, she wakes every morning and carries on.  

-And though she is broken and seems to feel lost and confusion has spoken and the cost is the cost. In her darkest hour, she knew not to blame she took what was coming, she took how it came. 

She’s simply so beautiful and truly so beautiful and I love her.

-And when you’re left without a choice and silence seems to fill your voice. 

When there are no words left to speak and being strong just leaves you weak, and change has filled what used to be and thoughts  consume your energy, 

what happened to the girl I used to know? 

She has melted with the winter snow. 

But she is beautiful, so very beautiful and I love her.

My head bows in prayer. The room echoes with silence. 

The voices are dancing like ripples on water.

Memory remembers the verses snd sayings, nostalgia is playing with the devil’s daughter. She’ll wake up drowning in blood from the slaughter. 

Goodnight angel. Goodnight sweetness. Take a deep breath. Goodnight and God bless. 

The flowers are everything, they patient the gloom. They nest all the secrets, relief in their bloom.  

Love minces words sometimes, confuses the brain, leaves desperate the bastard, turns sane to insane. 

-m

Living in the knowing space Is my religion. 

Decided how to figure out 

how to honor my decision. 

It’s where everything is something and where somethings really nothing. 

The knowing space in my every space, God bless this place. 

-m

So once I knew I wasn’t innocent,

Driving through the city.

Night.

I cleared my head

made room for what I felt. 

I knew it was the burning fire. 

I drove along the streets I seen. I knew they were not innocent.

 Cause everyone and everything had lived long as the miles I sped. 

And in my heart I knew the fear but in my head I knew denial.

 I could drive a Million miles a million miles a million miles. 

The wind it blew against my skin my hair it whipped against my face and I could smell the scent of loss and in my mouth the bitter taste. 

They hung a man so innocent they freed a man whose  body shakes.

 The children wept they felt the loss the mothers wept for their mistakes. 

I could smell the scent of decadence. And I could hear the music play 

and see the dance the shadows crept. 

Whispers of remember when. 

And they know they’re not innocent. They point their fingers. 

Accusingly. 

Blame is hung over their beds. 

And they know they’re not innocent slip the noose over their heads. 

And I could drive a million miles. A million miles. A million miles. 

-M

In pain, I have found my grace.

In destruction, 

my peace unleashed its ferocity. 

I am reminded in heartache that time rolls forward. 

And in humility is my pity. 

In darkness the light shown brightest. 

In sorrow, my joy was awake. 

In loss of breath and anxiety, 

I give my forgiveness and I can forsake. 

In my travel at the crossroads of decision,

I close very tightly my eyes. 

In colors of fascination and in masks of design I recognize, 

my heart, my spirit, my eyes. 

-M

Lay the roses on a grave 

life is slave. 

Pack the boxes gripped with tape 

Move away. 

It’s cold outside 

And I’m freezing inside. 

I am still. 

Get lost in the shuffle of the day to day. 

But I get on as the wind rolls by. 

Bare feet on the pavement burn 

melting snow underneath.

Lungs, full and empty,

Take another breath. 

Write the song along a wave in emotion. 

In the sand it’s washed away, the ocean. 

I am still. 

Skid marks on the road, 

bloods a puddle. 

Stories left untold

Perhaps too subtle. 

People come and go

No one surely knows

Thank God as you leave, 

pray and grieve. 

That cloud looks like an elephant,

my head upward. 

That one is a demon,

Absurd. 

I am still. 

-M