Home Of Souls - Wael Moreicheh
HOME OF SOULS INTO MY HEART
HAIL KELLO STRANGE RAIN MORE RAIN
WHERE THE DAYS ARE WE
CAN REACH TO SOULS PLANT
OF THE COSMIC
ARTS OF GOD DESS
THE PEOPLE OF SILENCE ODE AND BLOOD OF
THE ROCKS AND FLESH OF DIRTY CITIES
CLONE ONE GOD FOR APHRODITES
AND SOME OF WAR INTO WARS AFTER STUPID STUPID
PRETTY LOVE AND
PEACE FROM THE HEAVEN
[...] Read more

The Wounded Wind
the wounded wind
spirited messages
she does send
disturb not the bark of this tree
ancient soul
it does speak to me
disturb not the pureness of this stream
trickling tears
it does haunt my dreams
the wounded wind sighs
ghostly shadows still dance before her eyes
the wounded wind cries
like the coyote who splits the silence of night howling at the moon
Warning, the wrath of the wounded wind will be upon us soon

Reeds
They grow so tall
like solemn reeds,
swaying in the morning sun,
and rustle when the wind blows,
only when the wind blows.
Like revelers with the saddest songs
the wind tells them to sing along,
but to and fro with tame resolve
they move, and grow, and life goes on,
softly in the morning sun.
When the wind has come and gone,
and silence is the evening song,
they'll be at rest, but shiver some,
gently in the falling sun.

Ask Me Tomorrow
i wanted to write you a poem
ode to the best time of my life
but
i forgot the words, my thousand descriptions of you
i only know they taste like honey
i wanted to speak them
but
the lump in my throat held them captive, poor pretty words
but
one day perhaps
when we stand toe to toe
they'll trickle out
and seep into your heart
but
till then, I'll try again tomorrow
to coax the words on paper to become
the poem that i want to write for you

His Darkest Hour
he guarded the night once
the Darkest Knight some called him
fighting crime, protecting the innocent
it’s what he did best
no moments were spared
for he was what the city needed
a vigilante with wings.
though times have changed
he is no longer what Gotham needs
betraying his city
corrupting Gotham’s finest
with his bare hands.
although the question still rises
the city needs its knight
protecting the innocent
from evil such as this.

Street Lights
The city sleeps
All around,
Care gives way to slumber.
A mile from home
The street lights blink
A siren's song:
Sleep now,
Sleep now,
Sleep forever.
Their rhythmic pulse
Matches the music
And the city glides,
Unimposing by.
Can't we come here,
This intersection?
Streetlights off duty
Blinking shadows mute
The lines of our faces.
The city sleeps
And we breathe.
[...] Read more

Here In This City
Here in this city
where dust drifts
Settles on you pretty
much so swift
Dont let the dust
Settle in your heart
It will surely rust
Your emotions n impart
A deathly crust
Which will crumble
Your heart
Here in this city
Where everything is so loud
My cries are not heard
Getting lost in the crowd
Wish I was a wandering cloud
That rained on the city
My drops, it endowed
A sparkling vision
[...] Read more

Romancing poverty
When all the women
on their way to Africa
to give oatmeal
cookies
and granola bars
to the poor
have shaved heads,
you have to wonder—
does poverty make you blind,
fail to see beauty in pomegranate lips,
the pouring of auburn curls, or sea green eyes?
Oh! what an ode it will be,
what a turn of the lock and key,
when the cover of National Geographic reads,
“Masai boys discover beauty in silken thighs.”

Animal Rights (A Good Cat)
A cat is a good cat,
no matter what colour, white or black,
as long as it catches,
the naughty rats.
A cat is a good cat,
as long as it does not make any mess,
by peeing and poohing on my dress.
A cat is a good cat,
as long as it does not sleep on my mattress,
between me and my mistress.
as long as it does not make any distress,
during our loving act.
A cat is a good cat,
as long as it keeps our secret,
by not letting out of the bag.

29 - America
The home of the brave
The land of the free
The green copper smile
Of our lady liberty
Historic independence on 7.4.1776
An ode for all from F. Scott Key
A star spangled banner
A fine patriotic melody
The face of our four fathers
Upon a South Dakota crag
Look upon a nation of hope
That proudly raises its flag
Proclaim liberty for all it reads
Upon the cracked bell of liberty
For this is our home of the brave
And our land of the almighty free
