Biography of Ghada Shahbender
Ghada Shahbender Poems
Haiku For Love And Forgiveness
On Arabs, Stench And Filth.
Arabs gave the world Algebra And the science of Alchemy When Europe was in its dark ages And Aristotle was blasphemy.
The Warlords Of Poemhunter
I am saddened, in fact dismayed For the attention that I have paid To fellow poets who fail to perceive That they should enlighten and not deceive.
I no longer know me I don't want to be I look in the mirror and a stranger looks back at me
Did you ever Run your fingers through a burning flame To make sure that it would burn you Run straight into a closed door
A blank wall the ugly color of dust Two drain pipes covered in pigeon droppings and rust I roll down the shutters to keep Friday morning out The humid air, the children who swear and the parents that shout.
Loneliest moment: Parrot screeches for attention; The house is silent.
She is now my best friend. Always close to me She's as reliable as no one else can ever be.
I Dream Of A Heaven Overlooking The Rive...
I dream of a heaven overlooking the river Nile The Pyramids at a distance Fishermen in rickety feluccas A blazing September sunset
A Crazy Impulse, An Urgent Need
Uncontrollably weeping I reach for my phone I ring him up and get an out of service tone I know he's away and that's all I'll hear But somehow when I call him I feel he's near
Responsible Freedom? ? In love 'Responsible freedom' is not a choice For Love's favorite child is Responsibility
Of Pygmalion And Shaw’s Fair Dame
In my search for beauty I painted this picture of the perfect Other. I painstakingly sketched. I added detail, form, light and color.
I Will Never Be Cold And Hard
I don’t want my heart to dry up, shrivel and wither. I want her to warm up to you and for fear of cruelty shiver. I want her to hold on to memories, sweet and bitter. I want her to smile and frown and occasionally jitter.
A Spineless Reptile
I am still feverish from the venom of your sting The poison still runs in my veins I’m too weak to fight it It makes me want to lash out at you
A blank wall the ugly color of dust
Two drain pipes covered in pigeon droppings and rust
I roll down the shutters to keep Friday morning out
The humid air, the children who swear and the parents that shout.
Newspapers, a cigarette and a huge coffee cup
Heart pouring to Kika, waiting for my children to wake up.
Remembering the years when they came to my bed at dawn
Droopy eyes and toothless mouths open wide in a sweet breathed yawn.
They have grown up and I have aged.