Immortal Dream Poem by Ahmed Shibli

I've got a pencil to write,
between my fingers which are yet alive,
and a bunch of words,
made from a few alphabets.
26, to be precise.

A paper that's empty,
until I dump what's on my mind,
and voila! ! !
Its the complete recipe
for me to speak my mind.




Seldomly I feel alone,
but words keep me company.
These words that I own,
might be the best performers in puppetry.

These words are immortal,
and everything they touch.
Possess a freedom that's abnormal,
yet loyal to the owners much.




You think you are free,
but that's only what you perceive.
No matter how far you can see,
your still trapped within this reality.

Eyes and ears that are truthful,
so are a tongue and a nose too.
You can feel it all,
Be undoubtful.
But a mind love's the fiction too.

Then there are words,
that can bleed better than you.
Wiser than old men with beards,
just waiting for your angle of view.

The best of all creations,
more beautiful and stronger than me and you.
Words that last longer than a heartbeat.
Priceless, yet cheaper than a shoe.




So I trust these words,
as I head into an empty sky,
just like migrating birds.
In hope to find a land called,
History, from up high.

And as I'll descend to that ground,
just like it was with author's of great renown,
Literally, in history I'll be going down.
But this is all yet a dream,
and all I know is,
as long as words live,
this dream will never drown.