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Notes On Flying

March 17, 2012
Collaborative Poems
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NOTES ON FLYING

The stray seagull flew low, five miles out at sea,

and he flew proud among a small flock of pigeons.

Looking up, I couldn’t tell if he was disoriented

or if he was comfortable not being on his own.

The birds’ insignificance and my own, engulfed my

mind there underneath a dazzling blue semi-sphere.

The ocean, beguiling in its tranquillity, beckoned

me to come stroll across its bridge of rippled glass.

As the ferry powered toward its island destination,

I wondered whether the seagull’s aerial adventure

Was a maiden voyage or part of normal routine

much like many of the passengers aboard this vessel.

The urge to go…where does that come from? Is it

An escape, or a homing in? A departure, or a return?

Does vertigo cause disorientation and influence the destination?

Or does disorientation merely cause the departure?

As I watched him, surrounded, I sensed our fellowship;

two souls gliding, carried, buoyed by other forces.

Aren’t all our journeys just part of a greater circle?

And we all still matter. Yet we all still don’t.

The seagull had not whispered any audible secrets,

But it had spoken to me just the same.

The island may isolate me but I would never be

alone as long as I looked upward and embraced life.

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A Lone Seagull Comes Into View

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A collaborative poem by:

*MyVogonPoetry *Permabloom *Vivchook *afcoory *Jdubqca *Troublegummer

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ASSORTED

March 1, 2012
Collaborative Poems
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Collaborative Poem by

*JDubqca *Permabloom *MyVogonPoetry *Vivchook *Troublegummer *afcoory

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Image: Pencil drawing of girl’s head for his painting ‘The Mill’ by Edward Coley Burne-Jones 1870

ASSORTED
Remember the dreams I’ve stacked up,
my roll of meticulously assorted Life Savers?
They look back all stale and faded when I peek in
from torn wrapping; yet whole still.
There is no question we shouldn’t dream again
or find reasons for bringing us back together.
I especially remember the deep dark chocolate
and how it made the weekend whole.
I recall you saying Dark is best – because it’s bitter,
yet sweet. You said it’s like life, and dreams –
not always easy, but worth trying.
The sugar-coated confection of our love
once filled life with flavor.
Lingering sweetly on the tongue and frozen in time.
But rigid stacks of memories
the sweetness cannot yet disguise,
holes of emptiness I once ignored.
Passion infuses reality; colours imperfections.
Augments and yet deludes us.
We use our memories of our dreams for sustenance,
A gentle demolition with each taste,
So we are compelled.

Let’s Start Another War (Collaborative Poem)

February 16, 2012
Collaborative Poems
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Collaborative Poem by poets –

*jdubqca *MyVogonPoetry *Permabloom *vivchook *Troublegummer *afcoory

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Image by Chris Floyd

<images of war torn Syria

LET’S START ANOTHER WAR

The Arab Spring is here, they say
As long as the oil is flowing.
Democracy is the way to go
Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Iran.
Let’s start another war.
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Freedom at any cost,
Never mind the innocents.
We can replace fine young men
Someone has to pay.
Let’s start another war.
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These streets once belonged
to the youth of a nation,
but now they are bulleted
and torn and bulldozed.
Let’s start another war.
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Washington generals sit in
Leather chairs and smoke
Cuban cigars, picking up the phone
And dialling in on a strike.
Let’s start another war.
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Alerts will be sounded.
as forces are scrambled.
Buildings will crash to
the earth in one heartbeat.
Let’s start another war.
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As we watch from
safe distance,
nothing can hurt us,
we just switch the channel.
Let’s start another war.
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We’ll watch for as long as
blood is shed spectacularly.
Then we’ll stop
and go back to the sitcom.
Let’s start another war.
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At best the martyrs will become
a romantic footnote,
next to a Qabbani poem book
or the mashrabiya mirror.
Let’s start another war.
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Perhaps a few do wonder
the reasons for it all –
as we watch from our comfort,
the dismal Truth behind
Let’s start another war.
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Do we realise the cost to us?
That a higher price is paid –
Our Innocence, and empathy, fades –
the true Collateral Damage of
Let’s start another war.
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Shock and awe streams like soap
A solitary shrouded figure sees red mist
then becomes Red Mist
We can put on a show right here
Let’s start another war.
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Statues fall and statutes crumble
While flags are waved and burned and worn
The gladiators, entertainers, spectators dance
to the rhythm of shells and gunfire.
Boredom and fear

Let’s start another war.
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Collaborative Poem by poets –

*jdubqca *MyVogonPoetry *Permabloom *vivchook *Troublegummer *afcoory

Poetry is not an opinion expressed. It is a song that rises from a bleeding wound or a smiling mouth. – —-Kahlil Gibran

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Another Poet Is Silenced – Ibrahim Qashoush.