Best Cairo Poems
A lifetime of waiting, stacks of National
Geographic half as tall as me, piled on
every step. A girl with nothing to do but dream.
The yellow-black jackets buzzed, I flowered
as I turned the pages. The relics of Tutankhamun
fascinated: gold, turquoise, lapis and the slaves
in mud-brick houses they live in still.
I longed to be the Pharaoh’s daughter;
I kohled my eyes.
Egypt called to me. Pyramids, deserts baking,
heat mirages, and oases of palms with still blue water.
The twenty-first century’s reality is far different.
Cairo teems with discontent, Mubarak’s campaign
posters hung from each lamppost.
Two weeks before the Arab Spring, I was there.
The only safety found behind the gun-guarded,
razor-wired gates of the upper class, and even then—
A country espousing religious freedom was killing
Coptic Christians in the streets, and bombing churches.
Cairo’s one poster child synagogue stood empty,
except for tourists—dark, decorative, haunting,
full of tales of Christ’s sojourn in Egypt?
The pyramids rose hen-pecked by pollution
through a surreal orange sky. Masked women
walk the male dominated streets. Women
live in fear in or out of the hijab.
The majesty of yesteryear, the pyramid of Giza
squats like a discard in the ashtray of desert.
Vendors and tourist litter the site.
Baksheesh is the only God in Egypt,
baksheesh and the horded water of the Nile.
First Published in here & there magazine
in the UK
Await the zenith of the sun,
cross clay courtyard a beckoning
barefoot walked, heartstring undone,
Oh Lord, there’s love, no reckoning.
Soundless clarion of tears fall
toward absolution’s bright blessing,
within the domed sabil I call...
Oh Lord, there’s love, no reckoning.
The fountain's dry, but not my eyes
sounds of grace rebound, amazing,
Amazing Grace, sang such as I
Oh Lord, there’s love, no reckoning.
We are but one beneath the sun
for all our fears and wandering
all creation our companion...
Oh Lord, there’s love, no reckoning.
Let spirit rise on minaret
and phantom penitents come hieing
all is well, we are God’s get
Oh Lord, there’s love, no reckoning.
Peace is not a relationship of nations. It is a condition of mind brought about by a serenity of soul. Peace is not merely the absence of war. It is also a state of mind. Lasting peace can come only to peaceful people.
Jawaharlal Nehru (1889 - 1964)
There was a young writer from Cairo,
So proud of his free flowing biro,
But he lost it in the sand
When a camel knocked his hand,
No longer his writing can flow so.
Limerick: Once a Belly-Dancer in Cairo
Once a Belly-Dancer in Cairo
Tried to wiggle her way through Fado
Only thing she had on
Was a navel button:
(Now) Fado mambo-jambo Oporto.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Limerick: Once a Belly-Dancer in Cairo
Once a Belly-Dancer in Cairo
Tried to wiggle her way through Fado
Only thing she had on
Was a navel button:
Now she wiggles in jelly limbo.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
A block off the river
Just a step from the gutter
A bar that hadn't barred me, yet
I walked in for the first time
And knew I'd come home
A Lucy moment, lucid
In Cairo, Illinois
River town of bars and churches
One on every block
Like a chess match from hell
A queen in every bar
A bishop right next door
Pawns on every stool
Knights galore
I was the king of Cairo
My dive, The Castle
My move, fool's mate.
4/15/14
Lightning flashes across
The Egyptian night sky and
Standing on my terrace I can see
Those ancient pyramids
Towering over the city miles
Wide, so high they appear
To touch the stars and you
Feel as though they are gazing
Down upon you with an all
Seeing Eye...
Well and I can feel the cool
Desert winds through my
Velveteen velour and it feels
Good just like the first time you
Touched me in your gold and
Nothing more, how did I ever
Forget that, well there’s just
Something about being in CAIRO
That brings it all back, back when
The Spinks had not even been
Built yet and my first time down
On the banks of the river Nile
Soaking wet, well how did I ever
Forget that, there’s just something
About being in CAIRO that brings it
All back...
I can feel your arms around me on
This stormy Egyptian night now I
Remember you said you’d love me
Throughout all eternity and you'd
Come back to me again, death is not
The end, I remember all that now and
Where to find the incantation that will
Bring you back to life, how did I ever
Forget that, there’s just something about
Being in CAIRO that brings it all back...
Oh in shadow of lightning and candlelight
In CAIRO, in CAIRO tonight!
Standing in Cairo market
streets bustling
horns honking
children’s
laughter
ball throwing
heat simmering
the melting pot.
Caught
in between
ancient and modern
sellers market
wares and bargain
prices over jewels and silks
fruits and vegetables.
Something about Cairo
City Triumphant.
Sipping espresso at a near
by cafe in the
center of the bazaar.
Camels traded and sold
tips given by the owners.
Fine linens and silks
bangles and jangles of silver
copper, and gold jewelry.
Ceramics and glass jars
of all shapes and sizes.
Beautiful intricate artisanship,
music floats from the
music shops.
21st century effectual Pharaohs walk the
streets admiring the wares.
Where I have Paris on the Nile it
still runs cool to the touch.
Ancient Gates remain.
Cities of the Dead still hold their
legends with no refrain.
I see a silk scarf I have to
have a bangle or two and
some espresso for the road.
The jewel of the orient
holds her beauty well.
Shall we meet in Cairo,
‘neath the ancient, mystified monuments
to forgotten love?
Halves rent apart worlds ago,
reintroducing first wild desire.
To explore scents exotic,
a tangible feast upon my tender breast,
tasting honeyed hips
with sugar-spoken lips
‘neath paled moonlight.
Trace silver tongued lines
across your dark, rippled chest
through blackest of night,
and lovely gold-hued thighs peruse –
sand and flesh abound -
as we forge a path throughout,
weaving through barriers of emotion,
layers of the heart.
Sip at my shaking breath,
consume my inhibitions,
slake my thirst upon your skin, and
consummate our hearts’ desire for
Morning comes so soon,
and we’ve not long to love.
Chase each other through markets,
now quiet behind veils,
love captured, entailed,
and granted.
And so, love,
if ever we shall meet in Cairo…
the solid structures
opens a sort of bliss
beneath cairo's lessons
the hardship of catered
gestures above a silver spoon
soiled linen long naps depicts
the empty soundless notions
a gentle force of completion
while the withered kindred
spirits soar across the sea
seeking wasted bread crumbs
and folded sheets
of racing thoughts captured
within a lessor mean
shrouded eyes glaring
menacing pushcarts skirting
pyramids hover
Close to a scandalous ten thousand,
A reproach to the late Reverend Townsend;
All with their advertising megaphones,
And big dreams-nursing microphones …
In my town of domicile
With odds one can’t reconcile
Which I had some time walked miles
With my job-hunting files
That rather handed me victorious counts
Of how their number mounts:
I tell you: A Religious Harassment,
An unendurable embarrassment;
Ten thousand, really a killing figure
For a town wielding not the circumference of Cairo
And herself not lending to vigour
Definable with honest biro …
I still maintain: gong hollowed-out halls,
No Rock Musician would try for his frenzied falls;
A good many of them: a late traveler’s tent,
Whose thanksgivings broadcast Satan’s intent …
Never could be God’s umbrella,
For the catholic Emmanuel and Emmanuella;
Nor altars for demonic exits
From Christ’s patronizing visits …
Christ’s salvation current;
Is unthinkable in rooms of high rent!
my third eye whisked my soul to Cairo
I had an eagle’s view of the pyramids
tasted grittiness of the sand on my tongue
camel sat and pondered my arrival
old Egypt is mystical and ethereal
sand birds accepted me as one of their own
we flew together over pharaoh’s tombs
I was home! I was home! I was home!