i have always wanted
to write this
but i feel sorry for myself
always forgetting
it at the end
of my usual work
a busy day
i am reminded of you
as you explained yourself to me
at the third floor
of the academe
beyond us a row of trees
a path filled with stones to solve a flood
there were no birds
it was late in the afternoon and
the sun was slowly setting giving us
the feeling of
a fading day
the one that makes us feel the
crawling of age in our foreheads
we are not getting any younger
i told you
you are busy enumerating what
happened
what you love most and how this loved most thing
rejected you
you roam the city at night
living life in the arms of darkness that does not really care
what happens
afterward
you love the toilet
you want to make it your home
i am surprised with
this kind of revelation
but somehow i am having hints
and the surprise
slowed down like a car
about to arrive at its
parking area
you reminded me of things that really delight the senses
the tickling feathers of the armpit
of times that must set us free like prisoners
in the desert where we are so thirsty of
rain
that does not arrive as
expected
so we content ourselves with the moon at night
and some
dreams of oasis
and palm trees and
black Bedouins
and big and tall horses
of an Arab king
we spill the sands in our
fingers
and breathe
the scent of jasmine
and dates
i do not wish to get away from this thing
that i have long wanted to write
for the simple purpose of informing you
that i do not work
on happy thoughts anymore
i do not target happiness like a dart to a
red dot
i do not bet on some lotto numbers
i do not dream getting to be a millionaire one day
hitting the jackpot is no longer
my cup of tea
i learned this: those that delight us do not make us
healthy most of the times
after a taste of the dropp of the sap from the
forbidden tree
or its fruit
which is so attractive in its
red ripeness,
you begin to weaken
to the poison of
a momentary desire
oh, it is so temporary if you
accept it
there were many times, and i always remember them
when i close my eyes
after midnight
when we are so exhausted about the search
that pursuit of
happiness
when as an
afterthought
i begin to settle for the quadrants and numbers
i have been mathematical in my approach to life
in fact
more legalistic about it
what is sweet to the tongue eventually
ruins the teeth
what tickles the heart wounds it a bit
sometimes in fact
seriously that you think you cannot recover from pain
you waddle in misery like
a buffalo to a pool of mud
now i am into the codes of existence
that laws are made purposely to give us the guide to the right path
it is not the pleasure
principle that works
it is the gaze into what is good
and right and just
though it may be
so bitter
but it remains to be
so beautiful
in fact
i have not told you everything yet
and i do not wish that you understand this
but i must tell you
i have chosen my own time and place
and i am happy
you may tell me i am not myself
that this is not my rightful place
i live here and i am going to defend it
you go where desire
where your heart takes you
you are free, you brag about your freedom
let me know how freedom
defends you
how your heart falls into
boredom sometimes
and changes like
the seasons of this
earth
(you should have known that freedom is a responsibility
a choice that you make in the oceans of choices
and that is where pains are most self-inflicted
know, that your choices may not at all be right
because you are guided by your own emotions)
that is a matter of my personal opinion
i treasure it,
it is mine and
mine alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem