To Eileen: The Decipline Poem by Atef Ayadi

I hoped and still hope
that you are
a kind of
boxer,
a tchee something
taekwondo, karate
marshal
artist.

I hoped
that you pinched me
in the face to wake up,

or my face
pinched
your little fragile hands.
so we can both be in the present time,
no past and no planing for the future.

I hopped
we both brook
our ice
bergs and melted it in
a tequila cocktail.

I hoped
you burned me,
I burned you-the ice is only to cool us down.-

I will only keep
a little ice
on your ice
berg,
enough
to keep your ice as well as your berg
a life...and fresh.

do not worry
about my ice
my berg
my weather patterns
my global warming
or even my
home land security.

do not worry about that.
because,
myself I do not.

I just worry
about
your temperature,
your little fevers, and
your ''cool''
ling
Chinese system;

that is all!


your ice
is in peril.

Sorry!
to tell you this.

your ice
is at its melting point.

it may lead to a disaster
if I do not do anything.

And sorry again,
it is good to leave nature take
its course and adapt to changes and this is my attitude and
quite my discipline.