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Therese Bacha Poem
"The Immigration Officer Asked Me."
I was asked where are you coming from?
I answered I ran away from the war in my
country.?
I was asked how many years the war lasted?
I answered there was war for sixteen years
we were bombarded daily attacked by militia
on our way to work when we could go to work.
I was asked why did you choose this country?
I answered because they accept political refugees
and i heard that Canadians are helping us.
I was asked why do you look so pale and slim?
I answered because we had no food to eat when
we were bombarded we could not go out to buy
food, and when we were in the shelter nobody
brought us any food.
I was asked why are you wearing dark glasses?
I answered because i am not used to see the light.
We rarely had electricity, always using a candle
and staying in the dark for days my eye sight
weakened.
I was asked why don't you hear well?
I answered because of the arterially shelling.
And we had a bomb falling on our ceiling when
i was sitting in our home before the bomb fell.
I was asked why do you look shabby?
I answered because we never had water.
We never had water running in our tapes
we had to buy water to have a shower or
rain to fill utensils in plastic for many days.
He asked why don't you have any luggage?
I answered because i have nothing to wear.
My kids education needed all the money and
i worked 2 jobs to bring in some money.
He asked what kind of work did you do?
I answered i was working in the hospital.
And working in a Boutique for mens clothing.
He asked were you working as a nurse?
I answered no i was cleaning the floors
and bathrooms i was everywhere for years
in that hospital.
He asked do you have any money on you?
I answered no the militia took everything.
When i arrived to the boat to leave the
country as the airport was closed for
years sometimes, at the port, one militia
guy just snatched the few dollars i had.
He asked did you leave your home behind?
I answered no they bombarded my home
its in rebels i have nothing left in Lebanon.
He noticed my tears tumbling down my cheeks.
He asked where were you living then?
I answered i lived underground with many
people, for months sometimes we were
underground sleeping on the floor somedays
we had no food given by the enemy, the cry`s
of children hungry was unbearable.
He asked do you have any family with you?
I answered no i have been alone since the war.
I had to send away my children after they
were able to graduate not to be snatched by
the militia. They both went to the US to work.
He asked how many children do you have?
I answered i have two boys one is a lawyer
and my other son is an interior designer.
He asked and where are they now?
I answered they ran away from the militia
to the US as we had very close friends who
took them until they could find work to pay
a rented room.
He asked how may languages do you speak?
I answered i speak three languages.
Arabic English and French.
He asked do you want to stay here?
I answered with my tears blinding
my eyes, please, i have nowhere
to go and i heard so much about
the Canadians how human and
generous they are.
He looked at me with a painful look
I will accept you as a political refugee
we will give you some money every
month you will have a bed to sleep
you will have food to eat work to do
water to drink shower and clothes
to wear and you can ask your
children to come, are you happy now.
He stamped my passport and wished
me a good luck with a huge smile.
The beginning of a new life.
Terry
7/3/2013
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
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Therese Bacha Poem
~Deep Dark Poem~
Tonight I want to go deeper in my soul
I want to be born again tonight I want
to go back in my mothers womb and feel
my happiness of my first cry yet feel her
real pain while she was delivering me
I want to feel both all her pain and the
little of happiness I had since I was born.
I want to feel each breath I breathed since
that first night I want to see my fathers
eyes if he had a tear of happiness while
holding me for the first time .
I want to walk talk laugh cry climb defeat
succeed breath suffocate scream eat drink
revive my senses I want to hold her breast
and be a baby again I don't want to grow
Old yet I want to remain a new born in her
arms to feel safe I want to hold my fathers
glasses and see the color of his eyes will I
have them will I have his nose will I have
my mothers softness will I cry for help will
I see and hear and listen and run and walk
and hold her hand to feel safe I am lost
tonight I need her grip.
I need my brother who carried me where is
he today why did he leave me so early and
die so young I want to eat with them I want
to share with them in what state of mind
I am in tonight I want to go home tonight
to my mother and fathers home I want to
see their light at their home as I am living
through my darkest hours tonight.
But I cannot as all what I want
I cannot have.
I want their faithful love I want to sleep
on their bed and feel the warmth of their
love in our home where I was born and
after years I was torn away from them
to live in another mans home.
They forgot to tell me how much they
have suffered when I left their home and
went away they forgot to tell me so many
things that iI am experiencing them now
today yesterday and tomorrow my life
passed away so quickly busy bringing up
my kids busy giving them an education
busy cooking for them busy working to
provide for them everything busy washing
busy crying busy going out busy busy where
are they now where was I when my father
left to climb up his ladder where was I
when my mothers turn arrived to climb up her
ladder and stay next to him they went up to
meet their son who left them years ago he
was only 29 years old they had to live suffering
suffering missing missing him their first born
for years and years.
Father of my 2 boys thee only ecstasy
I had during that marriage nothing was
real except my kids nothing existed except
them nothing meant anything in my world
except them nothing ever passed before
them they are my light when i am blind
they are my laughter in my inside they
are with me with every breath I breath
we are inseparable even when they are
far I see them when its dark I see them
when I am deaf I hear them through my
strength I survive to keep them alive.
I walk alone yet their shadow never
leaves my sight they call my name from
far I call them back I write to reach out
for them to read through my lines how
much I need to be cared for even one day
maybe half a day maybe a few hours even
one second is more then enough to pump
my heart to go on.
So sorry my fellow poets tonight when
you read through my lines you will forgive
me as I am sentimentally in pain affectionately
in pain tonight my pen was agonizing missing
my children missing to see them how do I survive
daily without them I don't know I know I have
been doing that for the past 35 years seeing
them on and off due to the war in our country
& unexplainable circumstances.
Tonight forgive me. I have no more tears.
Therese Bacha
Deep Dark Poem for contest of PD (Win.No 4 ) 22/2/2013
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
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Therese Bacha Poem
This Poem Is Who I Am With Everybody.
I was told who I am, always reflects upon my friends
and family. When I choose a friend we become one
soul forever.This Is how I interpret my friendship.
When I choose a friend, I would shelter their names
in my heart,after conquering their friendship.
Their secrets will register in my brain to never be exposed.
I was told who I am always reflects upon their lives, they know
my spirit and soul will not survive without them, my consistency
will nurture their strength to exude.
When I choose a friend, my love will never sleep or vanish,
my telepathy will wake up and sleep when they retire.
My sharing becomes an unconditional awareness of either their
pain or happiness. They feel that I am capable of praying for
them each night.
If they are near or far makes no difference out of love their
shadow will send me messages in what state of mind they
are at the moment.
My heart will surrender when I am needed, if they want to talk,
I will listen, if they cry I will wipe their tears, if they are hungry
for food I will feed them, if they hunger for philosophy, I would
share my knowledge, if they crave for silence my voice is muted,
if they are weak in health nothing will hold me back from running
to stay next to them day and night till healing will prevail.
When I choose a friend, I was told who I am always reflects upon
their everyday living, because knowing all what I possess will be
shared without asking, generosity progresses out of love.
Their silhouette constantly moves next to me, feeling their heart
beat continuously to determine how to approach them.
That is why who I am always reflects upon their everyday,
knowing I analyze the word friendship as the dearest to my soul,
I have no boundaries, my tears will flow like raindrops reaching their
window if any help is needed.
I love all my friends.
21/5/2013 Contest For SKAT. This Is Who I Am with everybody. WIN (10)
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
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Therese Bacha Poem
~Echoes Of The Heart.~
Yesterday she was carrying a void felt deep in her heart its echo
was begging someone to fill her needs to be free to love & venture
through society accept to socialize allow her heart to search for a
different attitude towards life to fill her emptiness. Its so hard
to keep up with those changes of feelings without finding solutions.
She prayed her consciousness to stop listening to voices
of loneliness.
Fear obliged her soul to escape from being locked in an arena
with lions to mutilate her spirit due to feebleness.
She wept why she could not fly like a bird to the sky and land
on the sand stand and wave to thee unknown ask to be rescued .
She wished anyone could send a feather with the wind towards
her hearts echo, as a whisper of connecting.
The more time passed the more her heart felt deserted, she couldn't
walk as her feet were stuck in the cement.
The void was getting stronger she doesn't know why, maybe if she
rings a bell someone will come looking for her, she doesn't want to
know anymore why she feels confused in her own battle of survival.
Nobody knows why the echo inside her heart was far from listening,
refusing to respond to the same philosophy she had a few years ago,
she was strong, accepting, walking, breathing normal, but what is normal,
she seems to be very far away from changing to normal, she wants to
give up fighting and drown with all her feelings only to surface when
she understands and becomes normal.
Maybe the winter cold and snow are all over her body she must be
frozen as her breathing is waiting for a sign to pump some air into
her lungs, she tried but when she looked outside it was so somber,
her emotions begged to stop thinking, only exist for the moment.
When the night will surround her darkness she will be born again to
fill her own aloneness, she writes poetry and reads books, she
shares her thoughts with her own thoughts, and wonder how sad
just to survive because one has to, today her wish is to let go and
trigger her feelings to take an ugly turn by vanishing without even
leaving a note why? She needed desperately to listen to the echos
emerging from her heart telling her what to do, she will wait.
Because her wishes could not find someone to love and breath the
same air at that advanced age, that was the reason why existing was
not worth it anymore, she was ready to let go of her spirit and soul,
suddenly her hearts echo grew louder forbidding her not to run
towards her night table where she had all her medications, but reach
out to God befriend Him and sleep with the thought of waking up for
another tomorrow to remain alive and stay in love.
Tonight her echo was urging her to chatter with her thoughts
and listen to her echo echoing that her lover of 43 years will
come back, do not panic, he left to explore his own path and
listen to his own echo while flying away for an intermission
to feel what his heart wants him to do.
You must desire the same energy that your hearts echoes fly
together towards your doorsteps and place that outstanding
red rose a sign of love for your tomorrows.
Knowing your love is & was an everlasting love
time Is your witness, wait for him, he will be back.
Therese Bacha
20/3/2013
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
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Therese Bacha Poem
I believe in lots of things I can't see
My dreams are like a ship's consciousness
drowned in the ocean
I want to live for a reason
How I wish I could resign
from myself
How I wish now I was wrapped
on a bed neither to move my hands
nor my feet
I try to feel but I have no feelings
My soul is rich my spirit feels poor
I have a brain that feels unconscious
I got married but was never in love
I am alive yet I wish I was dead
I wanted to stay but I had to leave
I have tears but cannot weep
I've got memories
yet I crave to forget them
I feel a storm coming
without rain or thunder
People die but I cannot mourn
I am friendly but have no friends
I think I am intelligent but I feel numb
I thought I graduated
but threw away my diploma
I have a birthday with no wishes
I dream yet I forget them
I had a castle yet I feel I'm living in a hut
I have courage but I cannot face it
I am a body that looks like a skeleton
My heart beats but I cannot hear it
The sky is blue but I see gray
My voice
You dwell too much about the past
that taught you to be so cruel
I loved but nobody loved me
The flowers were blooming
but I saw them dead
I was a violin with broken strings
when I could not hold my anger
If I could only scream to listen to my echo
I rode a horse without a saddle
I was at the beach and I saw no ocean
I walked on the land but felt
only rocks
My feet were bleeding I cut them off
I wake up at dawn but I feel its dark
I rang the bell nobody opened
I was on the roof top and my soul fell down
I watched a beginning it felt like the end
Therese Bacha
14 November 2014.
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2014
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Therese Bacha Poem
When She Was Young
When she was young she would sleep
holding her dreams in her hand next
to her heart to protect them from being
forgotten now that she is older she sleeps
dreading to dream as her hands cannot hold
them any longer.
When she was young her dreams had a meaning
they lightened up her mornings opening her
balcony to breath the fresh air to look towards
the mountains and feel the sensation of climbing
to the peak watch the other side & peep to the
beauty she could reach out to,being younger &
having the courage that tomorrow she can do it.
When she was young she was glad of life
because it gave her the chance to fall in love
to work to play to look at the stars.
Now that she is older she opens her balcony
and sees a black fog hiding her view the mountains
don't exist her hopes are mixed up there is a deep
valley, the trees are withered the path is blocked
the birds are screaming their nests are gone
the grass is suffering because of the wind changed
its direction running away taking everything
that might still be alive.
If only she knew how getting older would feel
when she was younger she would have intentionally
grabbed each day by force and lived each moment
instead of having to have lived only to give her
whole existence to everybody, she would have had
time to keep the mountains view look alive she
would have kept seeing a clear path with no end
she would have told the trees not to die she would
have told the blowing wind to keep her birds nests alive
she would have asked her dream not to let her grow olde
her dream answered her.
My friend if I could do that trust me I would have
fulfilled your dream.
Yet, she loved when she was younger,
she loves getting older, and she loves
living today each Moment, Now.
Therese Bacha
5/2/13
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
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Therese Bacha Poem
A Dark Cloud
Why do I cry when I don't feel like crying?
Only because my pain increases daily until
it became intolerable, indescribable over the days
it got worse.
Why do I laugh when I don't feel like laughing?
Only because I feel awkward in society the most
I wanted was to get away.
Why do I eat, when I don't feel like eating?
Only because my body wants to agonize
I feel i have a very long way to go in life.
Why do I drink when I don't feel like drinking?
Only because I have to humidify my dead body
& my tears will water the roses.
Why am I here when I don't want to be here?
Only because nobody wants me & I was
forbidden to travel.
Why do I stay when I don't want to stay?
Only because I have no choice I was unaccepted
& my freedom strangled.
Why do I miss when I don't want to miss?
Only because I want to suffer as i knew
what they wanted from me.
Why do I dream when I don't want to dream?
Only because my dreams are dreamless they
went down the drain.
Why do I feel lonely when I don't want to feel lonely?
Only because of my aloneness every moment changes
I get scary and cannot control my nerves.
Why do I phone when I don't want to phone?
Only because I miss the echo of a voice when
I answered that voice avoided me.
Why do I wake up when I don't feel like waking up?
Only because the bell rang just to relate to anybody
but there was nobody.
Why am I in pain when I don't feel like being in pain?
Only because my pain has no end it cant stop bleeding.
Why do I dress up when I don't feel like dressing up?
Only because I cant stay naked winter is at the door.
Why do I go out when I don't feel like going out?
Only because time has to pass away & my
memories have to fade astray.
Why was I born, when I don't feel alive?
Only because my mother helped me to
stay alive.
Why did I marry when I din't want a husband?
Only because I was forced to get married all
I wanted was to fly away as i couldn't stay.
Why am I in love when I don't feel like being
In love? only because I have to love anyone
and our love seemed inevitable.
Why do I run when I don't feel like running?
Only because the doctor told me so & someone
was following me, I got scared had to be gone
gone away.
Why am I angry when I don't want to be angry?
Only because my thoughts are hurting my system
was a blur I couldn't wait for my fate..
Why am I a mother when I cant live with my children?
Only because I decided to run into the woods and hide,
because I am getting older and maybe I can die.
Therese Bacha
5/4/2013 (Win No. 4)
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
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Therese Bacha Poem
~ Punished~
One evening with her dad she met this man at a bar very
handsome well mannered visiting from England.
After a few visits she started feeling him approaching her
with nice compliments.
His attention made her fall In love with him
For months he took her out running to the beach
shouting out loud I love your body i love your eyes
you’ll never belong to nobody but me.
On a moonlight night he was holding her so tight
kissing her lips caressing her tits expressing his
desire to light up the fire that was burning in their
entire body and soul.
As he was her first this is what she thought at the
beginning she was very reserved yet she liked the
fire she was feeling they were new to her his kissing
was sensuous he smelled lovely he was caressing her
hair while sitting on the sand she was so taken by her
thoughts suddenly she heard.
Oh my darling let me love you my way let me make you
my woman without any delay I beg you to give up and
stop the fight I am promising at the same time to marry
you very soon I will ask your dad that you will become my
wife next Sunday at soon.
She wanted to believe him her head was spinning her heart
was beating to the sounds of his powerful movements
she was reaching the sky so quickly sensations of ecstasy
she was feeling with his compliments whispering his love
to her out loud while she was dreaming of the marriage
as being lifted up on a carriage listening to the horses
tapping on the course to the hotel room where they will
spend their honeymoon as she will become that bride
at noon.
Before even her dreams were over she felt him suddenly
role over and ran away with no delay she could not understand
why ? Why? Did he leave with no good-bye.
Not realizing she was undressed hurried to get dressed ran to look
from side to side asking herself why did he hide he promised me
to be his bride? even if she was yet a child.
She sat where they loved each other looking at the ocean maybe
he will come back he must he told her he is in love.
Already it was dark in a low voice having no choice she ran
home straight to her room wiping her running tears and fears
covering her feet to feel some heat and fell asleep not to see
her dad as maybe tomorrow he will come back with an
explanation to his act.
Hoping not to be deceived and very soon to be relieved
when he ‘ll knock on their door and swipe her off her feet
tell her dad to fix their marriage.
She waited for days and days but that day never came
she knew then it was only a game and she`ll never see
him again and will never be the same.
That early morning she woke up before her dad to cheer up
herself for him not to doubt she had maybe made a huge
mistake.
Having her coffee she pulled the newspaper and screamed
Oh Oh the man she loved was an addicted rapist being
searched from the Interpol in England, he had convinced
everybody doctors and nurses that he was cured.
Continuing to read she read his history that he was battling
addiction of raping teenagers for the past twenty years. Lived
most of the time in jail.
She cried and cried she was raped by an addicted rapist who
was never cured.
She could not eat or drink not knowing what to think
while running to the sink that’s when she found out
but couldn’t shout that she was carrying a rapist child.
Where are you? She thought you were honest
But you were only an ordinary man still battling
your addiction.
Forgive me Oh My God! Her dad
forgave her out of love to his innocent daughter.
She had to keep her child and trusted herself
to bring him up not like his father.
And she did her son became an international lawyer.
Therese Bacha
27/5/2013
Contest for PD....Any Poem Goes.
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2012
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Therese Bacha Poem
~ My Primary Emotion~
Three days ago I decided to become heartless by
eliminating my Spirit and Soul I could not take
the agony anymore.
I urged my lawyer to come, he looked at me and
asked, what is wrong? Gazing at him said,
I don't regret committing that felony against them
I need to be punished lets go to court.
Having no reaction, looking disoriented he
opened the door walked me to his car & drove
to court.
Standing opposite the judge I stared at
him bluntly, he was reviewing my report
looked at me ushered to sit in the box
to be persecuted.
The defense lawyer aware of my crimes
seemed intrigued and asked, madam
what caused you to retaliate against your
Spirit & Soul?.
I needed to disrupt their thoughts which
turned against me, the chaos in my brain
became unbearable, exhausted by their
discussions aggravated my strength
weakened me, my whole body was
antagonizing, intentionally forcing my
thoughts to become heartless, merciless
when I attacked them.
Both profited from my kindness my
patience, my healing was not responding,
needing some peace to pray for a miracle
as my young brother today is near death,
cancer of the lungs, he`s getting colder by
the minute, not eating, not socializing, alone,
my tears were overflowing beyond control,
when I heard a friendly whisper coming from
my Heart crying, enough is enough your thoughts
need to stop to allow yourself recognize wrath is
unbearable, your sorrow is taking you nowhere,
wait for the diagnosis.
Out of compassion the judge set me free
my kindness befriended my Spirit & Soul
together we went back home. Waiting.
I was surrounded by them knowing
ahead of me will be the longest night
I will ever experience in years, because
I was determined to stay awake
for that call.
The echo of the ringer came louder than usual
we heard this message!
Minutes ago he was wide awake
Minutes ago his heart tore him away
minutes ago his casket was carried astray
minutes ago underground he will lay.
Minutes ago I wished him an endless
goodbye with a sigh.
My friends held me step by step walked
me to bed covered me up stayed until I had
no more tears to shed.
Those were my emotions for today. Grieving
over the loss of my young brother. Sadness.
Therese Bacha
2/4/2013
Contest of Dan Williams. Primary Emotion Today..
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
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Therese Bacha Poem
~My Trip With Love~
A arrival from Montreal to San Francisco seeing my son and his children.
B beautiful red roses on my approach expressing their love towards me.
C for caring to have an eye contact honoring my motherly devotion & fidelity.
D for dreams come true when i sleep at night in my own studio.
E for enjoy having our breakfast first day while exchanging our life time stories.
F for faithfulness towards one another was so important since his childhood.
G good friends who invites me to their homes to meet their families.
H for happiness when I run to the restaurant help greett his customers at work.
I interfering with my sons life is a long forgotten issue, a perpetual respect .
J for jokes we exchange together through evenings laughing endlessly.
K kissing me good night when the night is over for me to retire.
L for love that I get from both of them when I cook an oriental dish.
M morning ride on a tour with family & soft music while driving.
N for never do I complain about any subject when shared together.
O older, but I don't let them feel my arthritis pains when I am visiting.
P for pictures are taken as souvenirs from this fabulous journey once a year
Q quite evenings when I leave my son and wife to have an intimate night.
R for roll up my sleeves to clean their home to amaze them out of love.
S surprise when home from work to a house clean & table set for dinner.
T transport for me is the subway my independence not to bother him.
U unique love between a son and mother, he is my rock. Best friends.
V variable outings touring the city while discussing his children's future.
W wanting those happy days to last forever. But will return next year.
X xylophone for enjoying the music of our last dinner together.
Y yearning from my depth to have wanted my stay to last longer.
Z zone when we said farewell at the end of the visitors area. Tears of joy.
Visiting my sons once a year is my dream come true forever. The love for my children has always been, "The Endless Love Of A Child".
Therese Bacha
. 28/5/2013
An ABC poem :For Alfred Vassello
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
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