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Zazzatron

PO# 543030
Singapore
Singapore
yeah right yeah right
November 21, 2018
 

‪each day‬
in small
odd moments
i find myself stealing
quaint passages
from your alms to parnassus
gingerly piecing their bare essences
by hand
into its native
ossature
and between the dawn
and birdsong
muddled
by visions of you
temperament sends me
to the old courtyard
as i stare beyond
the gossamer veil
clutching my heart
and hope
this east wind carries my prayers
of meeting you again
tomorrow

WHAT MATTERS
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March 29, 2018
 

hamed asks me:

“how is she?”

i replied:

“her kindness is more vast than the earth”

and then he asks me:

“how do you let her know you love her?”

“i recite poetry to her”

“how does she let you know she loves you?”

“calmly, and with tenderness she asks me, “have you eaten?”

“and how is she in charity?”

“she is more generous than the wind”

“and speech?”

“more eloquent than the oscine”

“and hands?”

“flowers bloom from them”

“and eyes?”

“there is only refuge in them”

“and when she’s happy?”

“her voice smells of jasmine”

“and when she’s sad?”

“my world ends”

LIFE
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December 5, 2017
 

in the first breath
of daybreak,
i stretch out
my battered hands,
a daze
reminiscent from
nightly vigils,
a tender thought,
some occult learning,
a faint scent
of ashes,
we molded
the silky plains
and
like the passerine
wontedly perching atop
of branches,
i set sail across
all
of your continents,
pulling them close
to the shores
of mine.

LETTRS BLACK AND WHITE
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May 22, 2016
 

Layla, if you see me empty of fire, then know that cold water had found its way into my arteries. Sit by my bedside and keep my wizened jowl lightly in your palm.

The nobles of our era are deliberately tainted by demons to train their composure. The acacias are nourished with blood, and the smell of gun powder leaves an impassable zone of disintegration.

Layla, if the orphans come to you for refuge then run your fingers through their hair. Were I from Hera I would have brewed for them rosewater tea every time their smiles fall weak. Were I from Gaza I would have let them take whatever they wanted from the silos. Were I from Havana I would have enliven them with the songs of sorrowing women...

LETTRS BLACK AND WHITE
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May 18, 2016
 

Perhaps my feet
are not slim enough
to delicately
tiptoe
through the thin stratum
of mirth
the profane strut on.

BALANCE
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April 10, 2016
 

And which land will
welcome me
to spare its constellations?

I've brushed the dust
from my knees;
I've cleaned the desert sand
beneath my nails.
The ink has dried from the parchments.

But every country is the same—
I do not belong here;
I do not belong there.

THE PATH
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April 7, 2016
 

"What is her favorite tea?"

In the winter I kept an east wind in the kettle and brewed sweet summer zephyr by adding milk and honey— and it has been that way ever since. For all seasons.

STRIPE ME A LOGO
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March 31, 2016
 

Perhaps
I've been sipping the ristretto
far too slowly
and you
have left
the bottom of my cup
and all I see
are just sediments
where your lips
used to be.

BLUSHED
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February 29, 2016
 

And every time
you hide behind
dawn's veils
and speak to me
I silently
blush
as my heart palpitates
out of orbit
and into a fever.
Tend me gently,
this carapace— worn thin to the bone,
weathered
from nightly parades
of an exhausted land.
It seems
your brightness had dried up
all of my seas,
like a star— Sirius,
to me— the undeserving.

SIMPLE STRIPES
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January 30, 2016
 

"Is it hard being away from home?" She asked

I've carved myself
homes
in the people around me;
yes
their skin stretches
awkwardly over their ligaments
but
I have found
traces of you
that makes nestling within them
a little warmer.

ORIGINAL
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January 23, 2016
 

Seasickness,
as I sail
across this bounding main
of wickedness.

ORIGINAL
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January 4, 2016
 

Darling,
I was made
from soft clay.

So
if you see me hardening,
then please
be gentle with your knock.

ORIGINAL
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December 25, 2015
 

What a great trial it is,
to let go of
a love
that's never wronged you.

ORIGINAL
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December 15, 2015
 

I've
traversed through
many towns
and crossed
many rivers
and found myself
picking up
from these telluric synapses,
essences
and pieces
of you.

BEAUTY
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December 14, 2015
 

The soul,
when filled with pride
flutters skyward
only to find itself
crushed
by the weight of the heavens
and falls back down
in prostration.

ORIGINAL
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December 8, 2015
 

To my brothers and sisters whose lands have come under siege:

And every morning if your chest aches as you are reminded of a broken land, remember that your arms are like rivers flowing through the rubble nurturing whatever leftover seeds buried underneath. You are the proud owner of a vermillion heart, pumping blood to a shout that makes the birds fly and a tear dry. And as soon as the invaders see you unclench your fists they quickly rush to you to keep them closed— for they fear you orchestrate the elements and compose magnum opuses. You are the flowers that constantly bloom throughout the land. Breathe in lavender and spit Za'atar. You are the victory that happens when they deprive you o...

ORIGINAL
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December 1, 2015
 

Sweetheart,
I will flourish
a paraph
after leaving
my signature on you—
a measure
needed
to set the
original you
apart from
your other yous.

SIMPLE STRIPES
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November 28, 2015
 

An old sage once spoke to me:
when the vessel decomposes
and time buries it
underneath the intertwined layers
of earth
and the graceful veins of ore embalms it, petrifies it
and the only thing left of us
are just memories
floating
in the ether of the living
and our anima ascends
past the blackness of the universe;
what remains
and what we carry
from this world to the next
are just names
and I'm grateful
to have known yours

WHITE CLOCK
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November 24, 2015
 

Sometimes
I stop
to look at my side
to see your space
vacant.

But more often than not,
I meet you
in my dreams
and ask you:

how have you been?

ORIGINAL
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November 19, 2015
 

She writes
as if
she's
breathing life
into
the dead space
of the page.

ORIGINAL
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November 15, 2015
 

These soft abrasions
against her skin
were like sparks from a flint,
touching against the tinder
that represented
the
intricate mix
of emotions
in her heart.

ORIGINAL
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November 10, 2015
 

"Oh keeper of the lighthouse,
what does the sea tell you?"

"That parts of its body retreats
and then crashes against the land.
And it will continue doing so.
What does it tell you?"

"A great deal more than that—
it tells me
of departing lovers
and of mournings.
It tells me of exiles
and tales
carried by the passing wind."

"You were not listening to the sea.
It had never spoke of this.
The sea only talks about the sea.
What you heard was a lie,
and that lie is a part of you."

ORIGINAL
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November 6, 2015
 

If
what you seek
is
liberation,
then
what you seek
are
the invaders' fears:

poems

and memories.

ORIGINAL
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November 5, 2015
 

Tap
the human heart
to reveal
mankind's
fragility.

ORIGINAL
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November 4, 2015
 

And the only time
I'm ever
truly happy
is when I'm prostrating
before my Lord
while pouring my heart out,
crying and complaining
to Him

about me.

ORIGINAL
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November 3, 2015
 

"Cantankerous!"
she tells me.

Sweetheart,

our beings
were made
by

collisions.

ORIGINAL
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October 31, 2015
 

My left arm's from Syria
And my right, Lebanon
And once these fists were beautiful
This spine was from Afghanistan
And every morning I shower in the Nile
Its water streams down along my concave
And the bridge of my nose
Were like the contours of the Persian mountains
And these hips braved through Beirut
And once these collarbones held salt deposits
From constant submergence in the Red Sea
And if we met, you will see not my face
For I'll have it masked with kefiyyeh
An old habit from treading on lands
Where sandstorms reminds you of your resting place
For this soul's a frequent visitor of Palestine;
Its ears recognizes the different dialects,
The nuances in speech
Its nose recognizes cardamom...

SIMPLE STRIPES
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October 29, 2015
 

Escape
the diurnal consciousness;
and into
metamorphosis.

ORIGINAL
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October 27, 2015
 

There exist in art and literature some distorted fundamental view or fashion that's admired. The man of sound judgment and mental discernment recognizes this and rejects it and stays out of fashion.

ORIGINAL
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October 24, 2015
 

And at least we're under the same blackness that encompasses the universe.

NORTHERN LIGHTS
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