Summer 2011 Schedule

Walking

Walking is such hard work sometimes,
To put one foot in front of the other,
requires motivation.
For what though?
Why am I walking?
Where am I going?

Can someone tell me why,
why am I still trying?
Where am I still going?
Long, endless, broken roads
continue, infinitely, and
sad, hopeless, broken people,
are everywhere.

To put one foot in front of the other,
requires motivation.
Give me some,
send me motivation.
Tell me why I should bother.
Though, the fact that I am asking,
Is hopeless enough.

Roadside grass was once so green,
it's a dull shade of olive now.
No life, no rhythm,
where is the beauty?
The sky, once so blue,
It's empty though, if you really think
about it. About everything.

I like to look up when I walk,
better than seeing my shadow.
Dim skies and blank heavens,
Thoughts don't exist upward.
Walking is such hard work sometimes,
when I could just lay down,
and stare.

Why am I still walking?

Tick, Tick...

Tick, tick, forever ticking,

How can you stop time?

How can I take back my life?

Leave some room to find?

It’s all been taken from me,

All that precious space,

All those years have flown away,

Wrinkles on my face.

She passed away so long ago,

And I, as well will go

Life flies by when you are still,

Rivers always flow.

Tick, tick, forever ticking,

Why can’t I stop and think?

Why have colors become a blur?

Perpetually, everything shrinks.

So You Smoke Arghile

Admit it, we’ve all tried it. It’s an integral part of our Arab culture. Yet I find that so many people are unaware of the adverse affects of arghile, believing it to be the healthier alternative to cigarettes. Ah, so amusing. Time to burst the smoke filled bubble of ignorant chain-smokers whose lungs will undoubtedly thank me.

Did you know that smoking arghile (also known as Hookah, Hubble-Bubble, Sheesha, and I-want-Lung-Cancer) for one hour is equivalent to smoking 40 cigarettes? Read it again. 40. 

Did you know that arghile smoke has no filter to prevent  toxins from entering your body? Yes, it may be a water pipe, but water-filtered smoke damages the lungs just as much as cigarette smoke, if not more. 

Did you know that arghile contains nicotine, so is in fact addictive? One hour of arghile is the same as smoking 100 to 200 times the amount of smoke from just one cigarette.

Did you know that the flavoring of arghile is even worse than the natural tobacco? Flavors make it much easier for harmful toxins to absorb into your bloodstream, as well as containing tar that sticks to the lungs and trachea.

Smoking cigarettes and cigars are terrible for your health. Smoking arghile is even worse. In fact, in comparison to cigarettes, arghile is known to contain 36 times more tar, 15 times more carbon monoxide, 70 times more nicotine, and high levels of arsenic, lead and nickel. 69 different carcinogens in total. Still not convinced about its detrimental affects? I continue. 

Sharing a mouthpiece without washing it, as is often done in Lebanon, increases the risk of catching flu, colds, infections, and oh yes! Oral herpes. Need I say more? 

Arghile has been linked to several types of cancer, namely lung, mouth and jaw cancer, as well as heart disease, dental disease, and even infertility and impotence. Arghile smokers are also seven times more likely than non-smokers to have symptoms of gym disease and mouth cancer.

Lastly, arghile smoke, as with all other types of smoke, is worsened through second-hand experience. So, by smoking your sex-on-the-beach-flavored-oral-herpes-infested-water-pipe you are basically imposing your unhealthy habits on other people. Which isn’t really nice now is it?

But hey, I bet you couldn’t see through all that smoke.

Silence

I hear it softly, deftly playing, silently, a sound

In my mind, in my head, it’s incessantly around.

I see her spinning, dancing lightly, on the vibrant grass

Eyes are closed, reminiscing, of a distant past.

He watches, humming absently, fingers tracing keys

The piano plays his rhythm, smiling with ease.

Music bends together and nature takes its course,

Notes all flow abundantly, teeming with remorse.

For the one who’s spinning, the one who’s long been dead

Is away in heaven, so far, but overhead.

I know she hears his playing, she listens everyday

He wonders what she thinks of him, he wonders what she’d say.

She twirls for him, forever, and his words through music sing,

She wonders if he thinks of her, whenever it is spring.

I know he sees her dancing, he watches all the time,

He sees her through the morning light, she lives in every chime.

In death he lost his dancer, his music stands alone,

Yet still she spins his melody, as if it were her own.

In death he found her spirit, so alluring, so profound

Death it took for him to hear, that silence is a beautiful sound.

Enjoy

Polar Bears Waltzing. 
What could be more awesome?!

I suck at Poetry (Huzzah!)

Once lived a lad dubbed Gafled
A name as hideous as an ass (as in donkey).
Gafled was hairy and warty
And oh! All the gas he would pass.
But Gafled was cunning and crafty
he fashioned a name out of air
He called himself Gafled the Gassy,
and sold all his farts for a fare.

Oh Once there was a Peruvian Needle,
A Peruvian Needle so soft.
And butter was her name,
So smooth was her game,
That she succesfully sewed microsoft.
(pun intended)

Once born a Prince of Thinelorford,
Larry was doomed to his death,
Of murder and treachery and horror
Because Larry's mom used Crystal Meth.
And thus Larry walked kind of funny,
He trilled and he jumbled his words
Yes, Larry was Prince of the dummies,
But Larry The Awesome he preferred.

Poems are so good when I'm tired,
I rhyme things that never could fit.
My head hurts but I was inspired,
to write down the things I could writ.

So now I continue my nonsense,
I subconsciously dream of my bed.
About hereto-s and whither-s and whence-s
so I think I'll just lay down and die.

(See what I did there?)