Long Tunisian Poems

IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY : LX - LXI

The Yijing says : " If the common folk commit crimes, the fault for them shall reside with this one person (i.e., the Sovereign) himself… "...

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Villanelle: Who's afraid of the Virgin Wolf's wisdom tooth

(As unlikely as it may sound, this happens to be the TRUTH: the foremost French journalist, André FONTAINE of Le Monde; an illustrious  Academician poet, Pierre...

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The goddess we call Aphrodite
Is not just an old Grecian deity.
  The Phoenicians did make
  Her a map. It's not fake.
Her body is cartograffiti.

The Punic war destroyed her face, 1
The Romans left nary...

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Mohamed Bouazizi,
a poor man
who sold produce from a cart,
in a country bleeding from the open wound of corruption,
got up that morning
expecting to do nothing more
than support his family with the sales he could make
selling his...

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Listen Sister HEARING this makes you WONDER…
I am a PHOTOGRAPHER and I can be a RAPPER...
And If I would; I could play in MANCHESTER…
All I wanted with HER, was to be her, BROTHER…
All I wanted...

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illanelle: Whose voice so insistent and so early to whine

(I have just found a poem I wrote three days before I was tossed up
and knocked down by a speeding car while I was mid-way on...

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IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY : LXII - LXIII

			LXII

If ever I had a country with streets under graffiti
And if ever I were the Minister of Transport who travels about for free
I'd give a free...

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It all began with a man who owns a cart,
And the Tunisian government took it away.
Now a martyr, having no idea what would start,
The ‘Arab Spring’ began on that day,
Causing the Tunisian leader to give...

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It all began with a man who owns a cart,
And the Tunisian government took it away.
Now a martyr, having no idea what would start,
The Arab Spring began on that day,
Causing the Tunisian leader to give...

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I am:

Child – conduct and beliefs taught from birth are ingrained
Wife – caring hubby holds me accountable yet contented
Mother – couple of sons and a daughter, I'm proud to present
Sister – contacts weekly, so glad...

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Years my father nostalgic for my mother.
She'd set the Shabbat table
Guess the white cloth the flu vegetable land
 Let the fine flour, put the meat
Put the tomatoes and garlic
She could cook.
It tasted feed came from...

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ROCK THE CASBAH
What mystery of life runs through  the mind,
exchanged, such glances, never meant to share,
to raise our heartbeats, if one's there to find,
and if we have the will to take the dare.

To rock...

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