About Taheeb

When the sweet smells of summer settle on my skin and birds linger in my hair,

You let go of my hand for a while from the other side of the universe.

We both know that my time for flying has come and so I

Rise…

In search of another life which is passion and pleasure and all their roads together leading into this.

Poetry…

And the supreme of it all is you, smiling and glowing watching my hands play with the contours of blue waters and red sands,

Freely…

I fly from peaks of histories to songs of wilderness, from ancient hidden carved gods into colors of madness on a leaf

Because I need to be, I need to live and be part of every part of this world, and you understand that,

You…

standing at the corner of my childhood under the summer of my life,

shaping the color of my dreams with your embrace,

completing my words on the canvas of our bed, the only safe place where we

Belong…

Through seasons and ages I found you and recognized you and felt an immortal joy rushing through my veins faster than my blood,

I never felt lighter seeing you float silently through the skies,

And in our eternal closeness you took my hand again and said:

“You can’t be under these stars and not kiss… You see how many stories I give you?”

I listen to you with the invisible most beautiful black heart of the world beating inside our one chest,

We are our own creation and the right hands of the right when people take their stand and the universe settles into the winter of our

Embrace…

M.

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About the Lovers of the Unknown

About the Lovers of the Unknown

The waters draw us together, like in our beginning, so the end takes us there again,

I have many stories to tell you now when we return to the Nordic shores for our goodbyes,

I have traveled the world into the cradle of life to gather them for you so that when you’ll cover me at your chest in that desperate embrace I’ll whisper them in your palms together with my longings.

A story about a great leader in the city of Karak to which’s bed the King itself bowed asking if there was anything to do for the people of his town. The dying voice replied “Out there we have men to do it!”

I wrote this and I pictured you smiling hearing me say over and over again that bravery is not a moment but a journey of knowing yourself and never betraying that.

A story about the red sand spread deep under the stars you can’t see anywhere else at night on the white edges of the universe where a voice said that time can be created and given.

I wrote this and I remembered how beautifully your face frowned when you felt that our time was not enough. I pictured you smiling hearing me say over and over again that it is ours to make now, under the same sky.

A story about a man who went against everyone and built Babel in the city of the seven hills, surrounded by lights and steel loves of mine arches.

I pictured you laughing when I wrote the story of building a tower to reach you in our beautiful Babylon because I want it also, against everyone, and this ego has created our reality.

A story about our far away Heaven we have both left for a while under which the night wrote, from left to right,

What’s your story? Where will you go from here? Will you live your passion?

I pictured you smiling when you said that I find us everywhere because I do, in all the colors and the horizons of the world ending with the same and only one,

My skin glowing with joy,

Of seeing you become you and me become more of what I know I am,

Lovers of the world, on the shores of the shrinking sea,

Two Suns setting, you and me.

I dreamt dreams of Gods and emperors while dreaming of us, walking back in time in the red-rose city that existed on the cliffs of the mountains,

I pictured you smiling because now you have a story for each summer day until you cover me at your chest again,

So many I have gathered for you, for us,

Love and kindness and thirst for what’s to come,

The floating peace and beauty of the unknown.

 

M.

 

About Eternals

Her face looked as if she knew his worst suffering and it was hers and she wished to bear it like this, coldly, asking no words of mitigation.

“You’re wrong,” he said. They could always speak like this to each other, continuing a conversation they had not begun. His voice was gentle. “I don’t feel that.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“I want you to know. What you’re thinking is much worse than the truth. I don’t believe it matters to me – that they’re going to destroy it. Maybe it hurts so much that I don’t even know I’m hurt. But I don’t think so. If you want to carry it for my sake, don’t carry more than I do. I’m not capable of suffering completely. I never have. It goes only down to a certain point and then it stops. As long as there is that untouched point, it’s not really pain. You mustn’t look like that.”

“Where does it stop?”

“Where I can think of nothing and feel nothing except that I designed that temple. I built it. Nothing else can seem very important.”

“You shouldn’t have built it. You shouldn’t have delivered it to the sort of thing they’re doing.”

“That doesn’t matter. Not even that they’ll destroy it. Only that it had existed.”

 

AR

About the End of the World

About the End of the World

At Sunrise, you kissed my hand and then we set sail…

Into our own second summer built with the patience that you have taught me during the nights when you smoked your cigarette in the dark and I watched you through the ashy smoke then let my saving pencil write the words you love so much.

Into my poems floating on the waters around us with your lips burning on my skin harder than the God of Sun.

Into the last lyric of our story which felt like the first of Aion’s unbounded, eternal time enclosing our universe.

Into the colorful lights of the terrace above the rooftops of stars and planets where space melted into tears of joy in my palms.

Into the lines traced by the big ships we saw through our glasses held tight together as you came close and kissed me on my forehead.

Into the eyes that watched me kiss your white collar while I whispered to you that my biggest fear was them, standing in front of us.

Into your words that brought comfort to that thought so I looked back at them and knew that we will never be old.

Into the silence of the breeze of the deserted bridge when you whispered on my neck what I have always known…

At Sunset, you took my hands into yours and then we flew…

Above the streets where the smallest of people were fading.

Above the purple lights of the widest windows where saxophones were bringing the night after midnight.

Above our tower of glass dissolving into the orange flowing lamps.

Above your words which drew my contour on the waves of the curtains caressing the horizon.

Above all the lights of the unseen world writing our skystory which you read to me in the darkness, smoking your cigarette, so that I could watch you again and see you as you are, with your first ever smile, the one I saw in my dream before you came to me all dressed in black.

At Dawn, the Sun and the Moon were one.

Our hands were numb.

Time stopped.

I was the Queen and you were the King. One skin, one breath, one word.

Music was lingering on our crowns. Phoenix rose above our bed and we felt its feathers on our naked backs.

The Nordic shores were succumbing under the warm waves. We loved each other with the end of the world on our fingertips and that will be the only memory of our new life.

We had been alive, out of time and space and now found our way back to peace from where life starts

All over again

Each morning

At Sunrise.

M.

 

 

About our Sea at Scheveningen

There’s metal gray and liquid blue, the birds are lost in howling winds,

The desert skies push on the edge of our world built on their wings.

But then we smile and become the masters of the waves

And silence them on our shores before our skins meet.

I know it looks like Vincent’s sea when we fall asleep

But when aware and wide awake it’s always summer deep.

M.

About the Forever Gone

About the Forever Gone

One winter night I dreamt that I got lost under my pen and the wrong train took me back to the haven of my past.

I got off and did not move, did not breathe, ghosts were touching the tips of my hair,

I waited, with my eyes closed, scared and numb, in the cold darkness, close to the tracks, for the first sound of the wheels, so that I can come back,

Desperately! Desperately back to what matters, back to the only thing that really exists.

This moment.

You felt my dream too because when I told you its story you were still waiting for your train, to bring you back to what matters, the only one that really exists,

Me.

And after all this time, on a summer night, when other arms took me up to the skies I love so much, watching over the Nordic shores,

I saw everything clearly, like the reflection of the waters where you had first kissed me.

I heard the words she had said to me her whole life, over and over again, putting her old hands on my trembling knees… “Wait… the time will come…”

From above, the city streets filled up with our blue waves and our short victories and I felt an almost deadly joy because I had lived you, I had loved you and then I knew.

You have taught me Patience.

And carved your love on my skin in a white house on an island, to wear it forever in the times to come.

Our time has been like A Few Seconds Before Sunrise,

“so sweet, so soft, so calm, all that’s you in a breath”

And that night I knew that you will be mine forever, a Sun God.

Behind your handprints on my neck are all the words you said to me from the tower of glass,

In the days and nights when I loved you the most.

I see the trees bending with the breeze and I hear their music calling for the autumn when all you’ll have to do is ask me if I still want you.

Desperately! Desperately!

You’re the only past I’d ever go back to!

M.