The Raging Party
The raging party goes on into the night
Near the market place
Where the poor search for a fix
In the royal kingdom of religion
The girls come and go like birds in the wind
Enjoying the musical calls of black morning
The call of bootlegged bottles
From the trunks of 1989
Chevrolet Caprice Classics
The booze they water down
The brown paste they weave
They rave the gallon hours of secrecy
And shed temporary light
On the darkness of our conditions
They are our salvation
They are our escape
From the void we have already sunk in
They are the music that rings
In the background of our emotional decay
We are lost in their bodies
We search for ourselves in their bodies
We search for innocence on their breasts
We search for truth on their lips
We search for warmth in their buzems
We search for life in their flowers
We search for love in their hearts
Yet we find nothing at all
Alas … AHHHHH
The momentary pleasures
The screams of unheard noise
Echoes of the clackering furniture
In the clubhouses
Whilst the squad cars
Whiz by
Un
Aware
Blind to the endless possibilities of youth
Blind to lust’s capabilities
In belief that they control
That which is uncontrollable
That which is
Passion
After this phase
We fall silent
And dim the musical light
And find ourselves
Lost for words
Yet we need none
We share lighters
We play with hair
We bite
We tease
We are lost in meaningless giggles
We are lost on beds
We are lost on tables
We are lost on roofs
We are lost
On tongues
And indifferent to eyes
We are blind to gaze
For they will leave us in the early sunrise
And a new flock will return in the dawns haze
They are friends nonetheless
At least whilst they are here
And we long for their presence
For they bring the city to life
In those neon rooms
Of subculture delicacy
Where the boy explores
The creativity of divine expression
For the very first time
His body shivers with excitement
And at 4 AM he finds clear passage
Into the rose of a blossoming bird
He sails through the wet waters
Of fire
This is the place in the old country
Near the worship houses
And the market places
And the un walkable streets
And the death defying highways
And the floods of rain
Where everything is finally true
And options lay flat on the ground
For everyone to see
A secret cave of dancing lights
Far from the public eye
Where intentions lay
Naked
Bare
Beautiful
That is
The raging party
In the kingdom of religion
On Friday night
Copyright © Abdullatif Kanafani | Year Posted 2016
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