AbdelAziz Alhaider

Rookie (in that biue planet......that called earth / within the time of the sad creation)

One Word 1985-2009 - Poem by AbdelAziz Alhaider

One word 1985-2009

Abdel-Aziz Haider








Two roses dropped from the rose bush
there for it was the time to move to the dream
--


Whenever I supports my head to palm of my hands
earth took place a full cycle on its centered

--
The Guitar on the chair
the book on the table
and the stars, laughing with great pleasure

--
Christ hanging on the cross
and the mother crying at his feet
the general ignites a posh Cuban cigars

--
Sun shines every day
only because there are eyes see him
--
When the moon laughs
the wind fluctuating the pages of the book

--

Do not become cold! !
I will catch for you, two days of my life
and bloat under their pebbles

--
I will send to you a message
afford for you by the coming storm


--
Do not cry, my little child
because, if your small teardropp fall
the entire universe will blew up in my head

--

I'll take another cigarette
then have enough time to melodious cry


---

The flower that in my imagination
made of pure nickel


---
Whenever I grabbed a song
a bird flews from the nest


---

The river freezes
because the moon angers


---

The guitar, which often grieve
now dealing with sleeping pills?

---

Who does not know sadness of others
should not demand the love

---

A bottle of medicine split in half
because the disease rejects to dealt with it


---
Autumn is slowly creeping
and winter, seated next to his tobacco pipe

---

In my next trip
my traffic to the earth planet will be a sad
exciting memories

---
The angels surround the throne
and the god puts his head between his hands


---

Is the idealist way
focusing the universe in one word

---

Only here in the life, the life seen heavy
and solely there in the death, the death seen

Heavy
---

When can we send again
If time does not exist?


---
Open door
the words enter through it all the time



---
I filled the tanks of my heart with love
then Children of the world sat around them
asking the warm

---

With one word, God created the man
then he looked at him with great love


---
When the tree of love buds
the planet's inhabitants wakened and kissing
each other ً
---
No advantage from anything
except the love


---
The poem rebelled
raised a protest banner which is the title


---
All the worlds ports are warm
as long as all seas are estrangement


---
The man is not creature from ordinary clay
the man is creature from mud that name
the love

---
I lived forty generations of suspend oranges
but I do not know any thing except one word


---
The hero came out from the epic
burned the book and warmed from its fire


---
If it is possible, to return back the time
If it is possible, to stop the movement
it is not possible to stop crying

---
The eyes created for love
as well as the coats made


---
I pay half of my life
to whom , who creates a rumbling laugh in
the child's throat
and pay the second half
to whom, who put a loaf into the hungry mouth


---
When Nazem and al-Baihtty appeared on the balcony

of the palace
millions opened their mouths, amazing by the
shine in their eyes


---
Do not read the poetry only
but kiss the collection s of poems also


---
Half the world's water is salty
the other half is fresh
but the water you drink is the only freshwater


---
Are human beings create the music
or the music created the human?

---
Every night the Cat enters in the bed
balling meows then sleeps
---
Look to the God always
he is beautiful

---

A sound beating in the depth
it is the growth of bough


---
It is simple as possible
and it is most cruel
hammering a nail in the heart of painting



---
The day of the city exciting the worry
applies under the skin
and the moon trembling with fear from its night

---
The bread is dancing in the oven
and the eyes of the waiting child dancing too


---
The evening is newspaper
and the readers.......... locusts that biting the paper
---
The light runs through the curtains
so they tremble

---
Everything can be turned with the carbon
to Poems........ or tableaus


---
Millions of emotions
pervade the characters of the poems
sometimes collide
with thunder and awe


---
The bright morning
with his colored brush hits
the fields, the streets, and the country sides


---
The Pen is brilliant dancer
and the three fingers dancing with him
with the points rhythm


---
Waterfalls are gushing with white water as snow
and the sinews are gushing with the
white melodies as pigeons



---
The life is prison
and the poem is the door


---
The poem is not solution
the Poem is beam


---
the planet is too small / to the extent that crazy one
that can destroy it


---
That wonderful blue planet
is the planet where I born in it


---
One two
one two
is the infinite frequency of the universe


---
The alienation is the same alienation
in the sea Ship
or here in the spaceship


---
Injustice is not an individual act
it is a work of many cooperators
working hardly to accomplish it
and serve it

---
white paper
is the biggest challenge


---
Tons of evil
unable to splitting
one atom of good


---
If the person was slave of the yesterday.............
he must be the mister of today

---
Do not buy white goods which blackened
and black goods which became white also

---
The chairs…..the chairs...
their big wheels
crushing the sitting

---
Red
yellow
green
are all the matter of the universe

---
The hanging coats
Since year
the branches grown in their sleeves
---
I left my eyes
In the windows glass

---
Hundreds of years took to discovering the earth is spherical It takes hundreds of years to discovering that the earth was not spherical

---
The land is fire…the clouds is flames…. and the
hurricane wraps each terms ……
where I hide my heart?
---
Tomorrow the sun will rise again
tomorrow the river will be overflowing with songs
tomorrow all the branches of the tree will foliate
but tomorrow who will ensure
that the hungrier will not die?
---

Large explosion in the awareness oven,
led to the collective death of the poems
and this continued bleeding in all tableaus
of the land

---
Some days I blockade by the watch's indicators
I do not see any consolation
but only jumping between the minutes and
seconds indicators

---
Chief priest in the Pharaoh temple,
Still repeating his calls
Indifferent to the thousands of years
that have passed


---
Between the bottom and the bottom
Window opens on the rose garden

---
Can all these worlds
pass with in your eyes?
then how much grief and sorrow that you carrying?
---

Kafka's terrible worlds
I still wake up scared from them every day,

- ---
he most beautiful poems been when they
stretched out on the sun carpet

---
The poems,
the hearts, the tears
and the forgetting
the basic wonders of the universe

---
The departure from pleasing
and the return from missing
that is what not written by any pen yet


---
The engineering of world
is the building engineering of bread ovens


---
The black bag
put together beside the teas cup and the gun
and the Jawrnica suspended upside down


---
The most beautiful paintings is that which ends from colors to light
and the most beautiful poems is that which ends up with words to question and exclamation marks


---
Southern winds came to reviewed by sands
and the northern wind came wrapped in wool
when they met each other
colored ribbons fell from the sky


---
Scourge of the times... nudes of the history
from the damaged fruits of my eternally wounded country

---
In our blood the poisons of hatred
and the spiders thread are blend
then our forms and resonant names specified


---
Who is wandering around our souls
other than the dark rooms deaths
and their paralyzed limbs which extended on the wet floor wet lands in the depth


---
Withdraw the paradise fields from under our feet
and do not pollute your fresh air with our
damned suffocated exhalation


---
Drop down our heads from the Cans cartons
that borne them
they are heavy…… heavy............ Enough to totter and fall


---
The existence was aged and his limbs was
slumped
his teeth grow old in his blue pit

but it is still tearing the meat and turn the carcass
under the slut sun preparing his food


---
What I do with this rusty swing
the door that leads to the underworld
his creak as the saw shaking painfully my
bones and my keratinous skin

----
The existence...the existence
the damned father of jellylike creatures
source of foggy light
and the moist tubercles roots darkness

----
Burn what comes out from our horror dreams
tore our dead images
and justified our stupid sitting in the stitch hole

----
Dear Father...
we are under your palms we drinking your
holy water
and dipping our long pollutants fingers
in the blue blood
we praying for you to perpetuate our rats
our hearts from tin as you taught us in
your Happy prayers


---
The dreams machine was broken
laughter's machine
honesty's
ethics machine was defective


----
In the boilers of chemistry and physics
the reasonable and unreason are cooked


---
Cry, oh tree
cry, o river
cry, o stone
they stolen the home from you


---
The nations measured by the sorrows of the past that they disregard
we measure ourselves by our strange ability to vivification the sadness


---
That faraway planet in the left side of the galaxy
the blue planet
it is the misery planet's


---
When you look at the nature around you
you will exactly understand why we say: that the argument of the human is a speaking animal is a completely wrong argument

---
The Friday(holiday) was finished
and tomorrow morning we will return to the
waterwheel

---
The morning is shining with bright laugh
but the morning in my heart is still rolled and
wrapped with his sorrow
In the dark corner and no one visit him in his illness


---
With the love
I filled the clouds water
give off a pleasant smell to
all the flowers
colored all the childhood
But my blood still not altered to sweat in the
pores of my soul

----
The man is the only creature who has no one origin
he was and is a fish or a pigeon or a wolf or a fox


---
In the hot summer night
I dreamed of peaks with snow so my spirit faulted with delight and shake


---
Whenever I start draw a dream or a dream image
I exterminate from my the memory an image of injury


---
Winds are come from the middle
come from the west
thus, the wind was before the beginning of creation
which blind tyranny who is trying to stop the wind
from passing through our land

----
Wonders of the World is not seven or nine
wonders of the world more than one can count them
It is a sea….. it is a ocean
every minute of our lives float above
its laughing blue waters

---
When he wake up for the first time and he was on the surface of a new strange world
the world of the punishment
filled for the first time with the feelings of surprise and distress, and sadness together
and since that day till now his sons inherited these feelings did not know detaching from them


---
The flower attract her dreams
surrounded them with its pink fragrant, rolling them one by one and sprinkle them to the winds
and we are following her writing the poems that we found in the streets

----


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, August 25, 2010



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