Monday, September 15, 2014





Anaïs Nin ...


You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living ... 
Then you read a book … 
Or you take a trip … 
And you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating ... 
The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable ... 
First, restlessness ... 
The second symptom 
(When hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): 
Absence of pleasure ... 
That is all ... 
It appears like an innocuous illness ... 
Monotony, boredom, death ... 
Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it ... 
They work in offices ... 
They drive a car ... 
They picnic with their families ... 
They raise children ... 
And then some shock treatment takes place 
A person 
A book
A song 
And it awakens them and saves them from death ... 
Some never awaken ...


Sonia Sanchez (Homegirls And Handgrenades)


And I cried 
For myself 
For this woman talkin’ about love 
For all the women who have ever stretched their bodies out 
Anticipating civilization and finding ruins  


Khalil Gibran ...


You have been told that 
Even like a chain
You are as weak as your weakest link ... 

This is but half the truth ... 

You are also as strong as your strongest link ... 

To measure you by your smallest deed 
Is to reckon the power of the ocean by the frailty of its foam ... 

To judge you by your failures 
Is to cast blame upon the seasons for their inconstancy ...


Derrick Jensen ...



You cannot destroy a world and live on it ... It is only this culture’s monumental arrogance, abusiveness, narcissism, and stupidity that causes so many people to believe that they can ignore the needs of the world, that they can manipulate it, that they can poison it, that they can blithely exploit and consume it, that they can take from it without giving back, and that the world will, like a good victim, continue to support those who are killing it, and that it will never fight back ...



Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Travel Tickets ... By Samih Al Qasim (1939 - Aug 19, 2014)




The day I'm killed
My killer, rifling through my pockets
Will find travel tickets

One to peace
One to the fields and the rain
And one to the conscience of humankind

Dear killer of mine, I beg you
Do not stay and waste them

Take them 
Use them
I beg you to travel










Mike Tyson (15 Years Old)


Tuesday, August 12, 2014

The Girl From Arroz (Poem) (By Jafar Alam)


When the sky weighed low and heavy, like a lid
On the exhausted spirit, given up the fight
And over the whole horizon it was solid
Pouring out a black day more sad than the nights
The girl from Arroz arrives
To teach me how to long for the immense beauty of the ocean
And though it is okay if we find ourselves lost in its depths
All that matters, is that we never come out of it again
There was a sadness that lived in her eyes
Like the cracked window of a house that had long been abandoned

We died quietly each day 

Quite afraid to live 
Quite afraid to die
On the night of her departure
Her eyes, like glass, cried diamonds 
When I said “farewell”
I held her 
As the night holds the moon
The sunrise stole our dreams 
And I was left chasing her shadow

All my strengths knelt to one weakness
In her 
Rises my sun
Away from her 
Lays eternal night
I tell her to close her eyes
And call it “escape” 
One day we’ll run away from everything
I close my eyes 
And fall in love with all the parts of her 
She cannot see ©


#JafarAlamPoetry






This is my heart to rock you steady... 
I'll give you love the time you're ready ...