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Nadia Abduljabbar

Missing You

To My Imagined Beloved

Missing you is hectic; I feel homesick;
Nostalgia is a heartache; it is a HEARTBREAK,
It makes me nervous, it hurts to be unable to rest,
It is rather painful, for I miss you to the full;
I miss you as a whole,
And as parts: I miss your flare, your fire; your flame,
How torturing…? What a fame! !
I miss it: when you respect, when you flatter
My confidence, my independence; my strength,
I miss your touch, when you are tender
With my weakness; with my wounds,
I miss your aura;
You are my aurora,
I miss loosing control before your sight,
I miss your dreamy eyes, your soft whispers,
Your MOON like smile, your SUNNY forehead,
Your DOVE colour skin,
They cause me to skirr, or be skittish

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Dragonfly and The Child Inside

Jumping into my kidney
Shaped swimming Pool,
In my girlish pink suit,
I let free the child inside,
In my fifties I was happy
With bubbles and waves
I created with my playful
Feet and kittenish hand,
Amidst my trying hard
To forget pain of betrayal
Of closest relative and friend,
A red dragonfly passed by,
And thought I,
of The Creative Creator,
Of His countless
Blessings and gifts,
One of which is appreciating
Beauty in all things around
Small and grand;
Stars, oceans, singing

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Mother or Butterfly

Your soul like a caterpillar,
Longed for long to fly,
Danced in the air;
Transformed into the form
Of an unseen butterfly.
……
Vanished before dawn
From everybody's sight,
In the haze of a cold Friday night,
You played one of your
Old tricks,
And left,
Without much pain,
Without saying goodbye.
……
Your weak and lame body,
Could never suppress
Your soul that was so high,
Wanting to walk,
Wanting to talk

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Amman My Unrequited Love

Why Amman? ?
You compel me to have contradictory
Feelings for you why,
Why my Amman,
Why do I love you
And fear you
In the same time?
Why do I long to see
You and once I reach
Your semi green valleys and mountains,
I feel so confused? !

Why my dear city
You insist to kill my soul?
Is it because the memories
Of my happy and adventurous
Youth is buried in your soil,
Or because my last love
Has become part of your dust?
You were once our meeting point

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My attitude for 'Thanksgiving' and Gratitude

The The Imaginative Intelligent Handsome Man


Kisses on the head,
On the forehead,
On the checks,
On the rosy lips
On the eye led,
On the neck,
On the musical ears,
On the fingertips,
On the generous heart,
And the broad chest,
Call it Love, call it lust,
Call it tenderness,
It is a fusion of all of this;
It is an Arabic woman way;
My very passionate way,
To tell you how grateful
I feel for your brilliant deeds:

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Faith Liberates me

Faith is a Force;
It liberates me
From envy,
From jealousy,
From too much
Desire for fame,
For chair or high
Position and power,
Faith is a power;
It sets me free from
Lust and the prison
Of the flesh,
I am free or so think I
From all exceeding desires
For materialistic things.
I take whatever My Creator;
The Greatest Wisdom
That Created the World,
With satisfaction;
And satisfaction is happiness,

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To Vienna

Grand beautiful city
Of the blue Danube,
Beauty of yours
Is still the same,
Your blue river,
Your Balconies
With their Roman
Engraved Paintings
Are still stretching
Their necks
To view
Those who pass
By your vivid cafes,
Life with all
Of its gleaming gestures
Neither recall
Nor awake hope,
Inside my soul,
I'm not the same,
Whom should I blame? !

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Who Am I? !

Who am I? !
A fighter,
A survivor,
Or a crazy writer,
Or all,
Who am I?
Eastern or Western,
Or both;
I can’t live long
Away from Makkah,
And its marvellous Grand Mosque
And enchanting desert,
Yet in the same time
I long for the English
And all the Western countryside
I love the grand Arabic language,
Yet I sometimes, dream in English,
East and West are combined
In my heart and mind,
Both carry my thoughts,

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Lebanon: Mountains, Meadows, Springs and Sea In The Same Sphere

And you ask me ' why
Do you love Beirut,
And Lebanon as a whole'?
Well, it is a requited kind of love,
For Lebanon love s me as well,
I can only reply
Saying can't you see
How it could heal
My physical
And psychological
Scars and wounds;
Is there a place
Like Beirut,
I wonder.

Now I am in Iowa,
But Lebanon sent Maria,
For me,
Maria is a Lebanese virgin
All of Lebanon is embodied in

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Cairo: Hell and Heaven In One Zone

A land that has terms
Of its own;
A place in which
You can meet a witch,
Intellectual writer'
Belly Dancer,
Sheikh, preist,
Extremly rich
men and women
Living close
To extremly poor ones,
Givers and theives
Hermet and heat
Beside nice weather,
Gardens and desert
On your way,
In one day,
These contradictions
Can only be found
In Cairo.

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