A Spill Out

I was reading ‘What She Left’ when the idea of this post crossed my mind. A novel that tells the life story of Alice Salmon, a girl who was mysteriously found dead in a river in Southampton. I was on page 152, a dialogue between a reporter and Megan Parker -Alice’s best friend- when I decided to write this post because of something Megan has said. It was memories of them when they were small. Subsequently, that brought to my mind memories of me and friends when were small.
I stopped for a moment to think of the way we make friendships now and how it’s different than that of the past, when I was small. Then, I remembered how I met a one close friend of mine. I remembered meeting him in a mosque when I was in my 9th grade. One guy introduced him to me, and I don’t know, I felt that we’re going to be friends instantly. Ironically, that happened.
We started to meet daily and have long conversations. Talk about our lives and things around. Ask each other questions about certain matters and so on. I used to walk him home and he does the same. We used to spend most of our days together, just hanging around. Mostly, at his place on the roof. Yeah, I remember the roof! It witnessed many gatherings and barbecues with his friends who he introduced to me, and became close friends right away.
We were a big group of very close friends. To be honest, kids were very jealous of us because we were very happy together , hanging around all day long, and sometimes all night long. The sleepovers and the desperate trials to learn chess. The biscuits and the tea which I used to drink, my share and theirs. They used to find it hilarious, me drinking six cup of hot tea, because they can’t drink very hot beverages. Yeah, I remember we were once taking a private science class, because you know, we were a pact and we used to screw up in school as pact.However, we were at my friend’s taking the lesson. His mum brought us and the tutor some tea. I drank mine instantly, waiting them to drink theirs, but no one does! And I was like, I’m going to drink the damn tea instead of it getting cold and tasteless. And I drank the five other cups. They all saw me drinking it, except the tutor, and suddenly all of my friends burst into huge laughter leaving the tutor traumatized! He didn’t know what was happening and they couldn’t stop laughing, and I was stunned thinking of how much I’m screwed. Well, luckily the tutor didn’t ask about the reason of their action, except that he got really angry, announcing that he has never faced a situation like this one. And he sincerely hopes that it doesn’t happen again. Otherwise, he will not show up again. We were all silent, but inwardly, we were all suppressing our laughter.
I remember when we once wanted to pray, and I went to make Wudu. The best part that my friend’s father saw them and joined. And I came out of the bathroom in a hurry wanting to join them,too, but the ground was slippery and my feet were wet. So, use your imagination! Yes, I slid on my back and they all burst into laughter. Oh yeah, you know how best friends are! They laugh at your pain.
I also remember when took a cab home after spending the day on the seashore. The six of us piled up in one cab. I used to always make jokes in such situations and say “hands in your pockets assholes, lol.” Anyways, after we arrived, and after a long ride of jokes and goofing around with the cab driver, he turned his and told us: “What a nice group you guys make! I used to have one like the one you have now. Stay together always and never let this friendship slip out of your hands. Believe me, when you grow up, you will need it. You will know that this friendship is all what matters in life. It’s something precious and you should hold on to it, because it will get you through tough times.” We were stunned, because I felt that he said it sadly for something he only knows, but in the same time, he was happy for us. We responded we will, don’t worry, we will. But we didn’t.
I tried so many times to get that group together, the way we used to be once. At least to meet once a week! Now, I’m not exaggerating when I say months pass before we meet. And most of them coincidentally. I gave up trying to make it work by myself. Finally, I had to accept the current situation, and that things change. Life is different that we are older now. But some times I feel nostalgic to when we were small.
It’s hard now to make friendships the way you used to when you were small. The your-turn-to-walk-me-home and mine. The hang outs and all what I mentioned up there and a lot more. Now, it’s different. I guess all of you can relate. So, I’m not going to talk about how suck it is, because it makes me feel nauseated.
I guess we all agree that getting older sucks too.

Fragile Us

Fragile, she was
In life, love and death
Gone, but still, my heart she has
It could have been more than a myth
****
Your mind ruled your heart
And erected your desperate fence
But then you forgot
Not everything should make sense
****
You ruined everything we craved
And buried the little things
You slew us with your rationality blade
Is that how everything ends?
****
Shame on your heart
Shame on your mind
They shredded us apart
And let us collide

 

 

Mo’men Ashour

A Charm of Love

In continuation of the old writings of mine regarding the ‘unusual’ and overshadowed romantic style. I hope you like it. Don’t forget to send me your feedback, please. I will be honored if you do.

 

This kiss on your lips I’ve planted.

Another on your cheek has landed.

A charm by which I’m enchanted.

That might your love I’ve adopted.

Forever it has lasted.

For the love of your soul mine I’ve abandoned

The glitter of your smile left me blinded

Fumbling my way I started

Lost my sight but never startled

Because I have your love in my heart implanted

Déjà-vu Love

One side of me that, most of the time, I do not like to show is this one. Yes, sometimes we are overwhelmed by something we see or something we experience, and then an overflow of passionate feelings haunts you and you find no way else to release them but on papers. It feels so great to try to embody someone you wish he\she exists, but what is even more greater is that how can you make people feel jealous of your embodiment of fantasy. This poem is a bit old one. I actually composed it before I was possessed of dark literature and art. I hope you enjoy appreciating it.

 

Who grants me happiness? Surely, it is you.

Those eyes, those lips, that heart, I’m falling apart, what should I do?!

I’m weak, I fade, I seek, but I still have no clue.

Your touch, your smile, your look purifies anything to sky blue.

Lost and stray, in love I would say, deeply in you.

Close your eyes and listen to the voice from heaven and never ask who.

I’m an ordinary man with unusual plan to win my love for true.

Soon my plan will flourish and I will accomplish what I pursue.

Together we will live, will not save anything I should give, past and hitherto.

That is what is meant to be; from our destiny we cannot flee, all like déjà-vu.

Same Blood

On March 29th 2016, a friend of mine and myself presented a presentation about the history of colonization of South Africa and Athol Fugard’s My Children! My Africa! In the Light of the African-American Anti-Racism Struggle.

We stroke a comparison between the struggles that the black people of South Africa and the United States had suffered in order to obtain their freedom and rights. We also discussed how might Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X  actually inspired Fugard with his two main characters Mr. M and Thami Mbikwana with evidence from reality and references from the play. And to make our introduction even more interesting, we decided to start our presentation with a poem of my writing.

We are made of the same mud

Yet, you insist on keeping us segregated

Our veins run with the same blood

Yet, my peace-making attempts have never fainted

 

****

O my human brother

Why do you want us both to suffer?

Don’t we all have the same mother?!

I have never treated you as The Other

So why are you treating me according to my race,

religion or my color

 

****

You fight me with fear

And all I want is to be to you one step near

Stop your war and accept my rose

It is time for us to increase the love dose

If Only

If only walls can speak

To shout out loud for me

To wake that cold soul, that lonely bleak

It may make me see

****

All I live is a lie

That smile I have to fake

That farewell I wait

To say my last goodbye

****

All that can be seen

Through my looking glass

Bid my heart, and lean

Shear off my lass

****

Slap that face, twice

Take its pulse once

Kiss that cheek thrice

God bless that vice

****

Stop pretending you’re alive

You are truly the walking dead

Invincible to knives

But feelings are so vulnerable to shed

****

Everything we do is but a reflection

Our attitudes, our actions

Our long-unforgetten passion

The overdue sanctions

****

Here it is, in sum

The story of my distorted soul

All my contradictions, or some

My last appeal, my final call

 

Poem Credit: Mo’men Ashour

 

Burning Hearts

 

Just the moment you think things cannot be any worse, you get another slap on the face to wake you up from that dream. It feels like a battle is going on between a buffalo and a rhino. No match in strength but match in resilience. The first maneuvers by hit and run and the last attacks with deadly strikes. Now it depends on your skills of dodging and executing counter moves. And may the odds be ever in the favor of who has the better endurance.

 

Burning Hearts

 

Why life is always unfair?

Will destiny ever leave us alone?

Everytime we try our hearts to share

We cry, writhe and yearn

****

We stand up, walk and wipe the tears

But the pain is still inside burns

A growing hole in the heart appears

Good old memory greatly moans

****

Will this ever going to come to an end?

Why can’t you just leave me alone?!

Or you just want to watch me bend?

No, because I don’t do the give up thing or groan

 

 

 

Credit: Mo’men Ashour