The Nearest Exile Poem by Awni Alkhatib

The nearest exile
Torture is the remembrance of that day
Happiness is the remembrance of that day
When replying to my only gem of Mud
Why my tears in her lap as flood
Why I like only first smell of her perfumes?
Why I like only first smell of drizzle on sand dunes?
Why I like first stair of her oomphy tunes?
But my devout soul steadily replies
Even your creation is for love and lust of blood
But you are created also for the universe to chew the cud
And universe creation is not for humans of blood
For this nymphs will exactly at your lip
And beads will migrate when daggers try to rib