Arabia
Take me into the mountains.
Run off with me in the sand.
Mend my heart in the desert.
Calm my soul with your land.
Arab Face
They call out to it,
the Arab face
they are so sure
they see.
_
They offer gifts,
some tea, their sons
to a familiar face
…to me.
_
Eyes lower,
crestfallen when
they realize
their folly.
_
But you have an
“Arab Face”
they say quiet,
desolate, confused.
_
“Those are Arab
eyes and hair…”
_
I hide my lying
Arab Face
but cling to true faces
in my mind.
_
For to see an
Arab Face
is to fall in love
for all time
Desertion
Stare into the desert,
into the rocks, the cracks
the red.
_
Find your soul amongst the
sand, the tiny crystals,
the stone.
_
Look for answers in the sky,
the sea, the sparing weeds
the caves.
_
And when you’ve lost all of
you- your heart, your mind,
your pride-
_
then give yourself to the desert,
pure and vulnerable, sweet
and kind
Sand
Stem the flow
of the heart’s lament.
_
Stop liquid
hemorrhage in its tracks.
_
Restrain the
rumination and deprecation.
_
Let sand jam
the soul that leaks its life.
Blend
When you have a face like this,
of nowhere and everywhere,
_
mosques are unveiled to you,
and synagogues laid bare,
_
churches and their steeples,
of all denominations,
_
find a way to welcome you,
face of all nations.
Mosaic
My identity
is comprised of
different colored,
little bits of me.
_
Shards of marble, gold,
ashes here and there,
intertwined so that my
soul is split and shared.
_
As I roam the earth
searching for where
the life of me
began,
_
I find the cold,
hard truth of me
crosses many a
thousand life spans.
Seduction
Seduce the trusting
people who feel your
blood calling to theirs.
_
Let them taste the sweet
familiarity of common
warmth and knowledge.
_
Allow your soul to house
their hope and stash
yours in their welcome.
_
And then the moment
comes, as moments do,
to let down the veil.
_
Disappoint the world,
with your mercurial
eyes, tongue and hair.
_
Betray those who would
love you if you could
stay still in their hands.
_
Destroy the borders that
bind brother to brother
and sister to sister.
_
Be the criss-cross of those who
murder each other and
wreak havoc on their conscience.
_
Raise them up so high,
to crash them down-
a walking disappointment.
Rupture
A love on the landmass
slices through the Dead Sea.
_
It clings to the sand dunes to the East,
it hugs the border to the West.
_
An unrequited love spans the ages,
and kisses the sand softly as it passes.
_
It cuts itself upon the rocks and
is grateful for its wounds,
_
for if blood still spills across the orange,
then love still lives amongst the dunes.
Move
God bless the nomads,
the people on the land
_
Without a home to speak of,
no warmth to lick their hands.
_
God bless the missing,
those people who are gone
_
never to return where they
may be safe from harm.
Dead Sea
Across the Dead Sea,
I reach out to you,
_
wishing that you’ll
feel the brush of my hand.
_
Across the Dead Sea,
I call out to you,
_
hoping that you’ll
hear my prayer.
_
Across the Dead Sea,
my heart appeals to you.
_
begging that you’ll
halt its heartache.
Run Into You
There’s so much I want
to say to you,
so much I want
to ask.
_
So many questions,
in my head,
so many things I want
to know.
_
You seemed to have all of
the answers,
the world an atlas in
your mind.
_
I want to share
my thoughts,
and hear all that you
might think.
_
I want your clever
quips about
the people that
we see.
_
I want to hear the tales
and stories
that you always told
to me.
_
I want to know your
questions
and I want to search
for truth.
_
But you are so far
away,
and I am here
alone.
_
You are seeing
other things,
with people I
don’t know.
_
But I’ll write all of
my questions
right here on my
notepad,
_
so should I ever run
into you,
these questions I
will ask.
_
Like, how can black and
white exist
where there is so
much gray?
_
And why do people’s hands
criss-cross
so different when
they pray?
_
Google may just have
the answers,
but not with your
special hue.
_
So I write all of
my questions
right here on my
notepad.
_
Because one day I’ll run
into you
and these questions I
will ask.
_____
Feb. 2015
The Liberated Polyglot
