Old Item

The bottled tempest and ribbon reward are today's eclipse and rain storm, 

Treasures of childhood wonder. 

The glossy surface on the gymnasium floor and it's defining squeaks and squeals go ignored. 

Impossible to hear the simple things over the busy buzz, left and right from one flower that catches the eye to the next. 

They sound like the river falling over edge onto rocks, impossible to decipher but 

Loud, constant, real.

My jar of oil and water, food dye and optimism that meant so much 

Turned into the kind of nothing that motivates garage sales in the summer. 

Unimportant, irrelevant, uninteresting.

They call it "Honorable Mention".

~ By Stevie Khadan~
Facebook.com/skhadan

The Writer

It is said: "Beware of those who know how to write, because they can make you fall in love in without even touching you."

There are those who speak with quill,
dwelling behind a worded paper veil.
Often unseen, they can bend your will,
as they touch your soul, imposing a thrill.

She puts pen to paper and watches it impale,
like arrows drawn from a quiver.
He can write an article, making you flail,
infusing his thoughts in vivid detail.

Enveloping her verse can make you shiver,
or make you feel tranquil and warm.
With pen in hand, he aims to deliver,
consuming your mind like a gushing river.

She'll bend your mind with verses that ensue,
and affect the state of your soul.
When you read his writing he might own you,
and there's nothing on Earth you can do.

With flowing words they try to inform,
albeit often concealed from view.
They write their pieces and keep them of form,
they're a noiseless cast, watch them perform.

Blame it on the Gun!

Blame it on the Gun!

A headline just caught my attention: “Medical examiner: All victims in Conn. school rampage shot multiple times by rifle”. Yes, the rifle got up and shot all victims dead. Yes, the rifle fired itself many times. Yes, the rifle, the gun, the machine gun, the shotgun. Whatever.

Look carefully beyond the surface and the subliminal messaging of these politically languaged headlines for the real reasons, as unapparent as they may be, behind this and the previous onslaught of school, college, and movie theatre shootings.  Think about why a whole generation that seems to have gone mad is being ignored. The weapon of choice, the gun, is the item of blame. Why not consider  that something must have seriously traumatized this recent school murderer , for him to go back 8 years later and commit such a heinous crime? Why isn't this happening in nations just nearby as Canada, where guns are just as prevalent? 

The gun didn’t say "pick me up and shoot" and neither was this done for a thrill, because he knew he couldn’t run from it. There are underlying issues in all of these shootings. They need to be figured out, not skimmed on the surface and brushed  under the rug. Media frenzy at the time of the incident, then subsequently ignoring the issue until the next shooting happens, isn’t exactly solving the problem.

At the end of the day, the masses feel comfortable with looking for a simple solution to a complex problem, like a gun, which can be whisked away from existence with a piece of legal legislation. It gives a sense of control. It's much harder to figure out a cure or solution for mental illness or darkness that could lurk underneath the smile of people you see every day. Once we realize the chaos of the human psyche, we'll quickly come to realize we have very little mastery over the world, which is a very discomforting thought to most people

They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety. - Benjamin Franklin

Jeddah Rain Clouds 23/11/2012

Give & Take

I’m here for you, my love, whose heart and mind are so good,

You are never absent from my verse,

Like the ones who never understood;

Like those who think they own this earth,

Like those who think they’re better than the crowd,

Who rant on their own pride and worth.

I’d fight for you, my dear, who doesn’t speak aloud,

to give  you hope and maybe courage too,

to help you out from behind that shroud;

Because you gave my heart the strength to stay true;

When I was so frightened, hiding from the light,

Though both our stories merit getting through.

This Afternoon (Hajj 2012)

A personal impression of arriving at Al-Haram in Makkah this afternoon, nearing the end of Hajj 2012.

See What is happening, on this hot desert day,

There are a million voices murmuring around- what do they say?

They are excited & overwhelmed, chattering of what to see & do,

But they speak a foreign tongue - what do they ask of me and you?

The heat and dust don't bother them, for it's a time of spiritual bloom,

Even through the polluted air and lack of walking room.

They faithfully continue on, mindful of their duty and doing,

And reward they hope soon, will come with God's blessing.

They are to be as if born again, hence such devotees,

The journey for certain has been a tiresome one, but a dream they've come to see.

And millions of voices chorus in tune,

As they made their way this afternoon.

July

There you are and here I am
With the end of another July closing in
Where it all began, this car
on a sun-flooded afternoon
time tells blessed efforts
and racing away laughing.


And we don't say anything
Because the world doesn't need to know.


And because words
Simple accessories to emotion
Just aren't necessary
Sometimes mistook yet obvious.



We share the sky
From similar vantage points
Live lives that ruffles other's feathers
But share one thought
As hours melt
Confidence into submission.


We know that knowing is more than enough.