Moez Ben Meftah

Lady Lai

What am I lady Lai?

I swing I sway, how far I go deep?
I feel frail, but again I sail
How long you drill in my nail
Layers under layers underlines
A waste land beneath sand
Every pain leads to a piggy pain…
And I surpass, I transcend
Every hour, the next second
I have a new mind in the same brain

I have a gift like thieves of function shift
Ah …there comes a time to pray
You prostrate and supplicate
You go through reefs of thieves
Then you suffocate, you go to work,
You face the people, you duplicate.

What do I say, am I ok?
Why I do I delay and lie?
Why do you avoid why, why
When people want to know?

What am I?
If all numbers reduced to one
What taste has the garden
If all colors become red
And the spring becomes fall
All months become November
What to do if you are born in May

What shape have I and tou
in the iris of private eyes
If lines must be states-quo
What figure could I draw
If all geometry is reduced to an o
What sense for sixty nine
If you are not that guy?
What money have the poor what dough
If "the ox is oppression in the lion is the law."?


The news is read, the views turned red
The papers are led instead, on Friday
Preachings read before being read

What am I if I fear disarray
The folks wishes go astray
Because of cupid Lai
And her spouses in silence slay
A whole nation from south most
To the north of the bay

What am I?
If I am not direct
By the way
Have you read
Catcher in the Rye?
You say good words
To your girl
You don't kiss
Your lips tend to bite
And the serpent hiss
Then she passes
And you miss

Alone you imagine
You get the zest
More or less
You pull thirty one
As if you caught her
Fragrant and braless

What am I?
I don't like the news
Who represents who?
The anthem I hear is so dear
Before I get to class
Then I know I am within ten million
And the sum is a fuss

Say something, shout, call the birds
Insult me within a café,
Speak about the kids of aids
Or the frail girls of Bombay
Burn a fag like your dad
Are you dead? It sounds sad,
You are mad, very bad, unsaid…
All beasts scream when hurt
Cows mow, the ewe bleaches
The dogs bark, donkeys bray
And you cuddle your injury
You shut up…. fie daft pry!
May you burn in the fry!

Am I the age that passed by
Or the bleak moments of today
Or the time coming before the Day
Or that whole line still undone
From the first gasp till I die
A student I am like I was yesterday
Or so will I until when I pass away?

Moez Ben Meftah
May 2008

Topic(s) of this poem: FREEDOM

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Poem Edited: Monday, September 8, 2014

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

The Opression years of the ex president of Tunisia Zine Elabidine ben Ali

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