By Fatimah Alzahra Ben Saied - Tunis

Our life now is a mess

They say they want democracy

While we live in hypocrisy

We don't know what is right or wrong

 Now we live a bad  sad song

 We want justice also we want peace

 But unfortunately this revolution took too long

We don't know what to say

 We don't know what to do

!We live a misery and that is true

 ****

Our life now is a  mess

With unknown end

 And problems keep coming in

I took a paper and a pen

 So I could analyze it but I got confused, and don't know where to begin

Too many loose ends

I have many questions to ask I will mention them while asking two men

?Will things get better and start developing

!The first man said it won't since there are many problems happening, and he is always sitting in his chair and not doing a thing but keep on complaining

!So I asked another and he answered of course it will, if there is a will but it depends on us to make it the darkest hell or the beautiful Heaven

 ****

Our life now is a mess

Where sadness is dragged

Into our souls & life

 I'm afraid it will kill us inside

Or make us lose the life's delight

?This got me thinking is following our beliefs wrong or right

To not surrender for misery

Or maybe we should weep over the situation

And choose to embrace the sorrow

!Instead to make a choice which is to fight

 ****

Our life now is a mess

But I got a dream that

!The sun will shine, it's brightness will make me blind

!Where I can see the smile in a child's face when he is flying his first kite

Where people accept each other's differences and respect the human rights

!Where I can see people's smile on the street indication it's a good sign

!Where girls & boys are collaborating together to build a country from zero to nine

And when you ask how are people, they don't reply okay or going but

 !Fine

And what I dream the most about is where people in charge tend to make people happy is their goal and sight

!Where grammarians would concentrate on the meaning more than if it's noun phrase or verb

!Where I can find  inner peace, love and light

Am not going to let this hope go, not today, not tonight

© Morocco World News. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed

The sun went away,

Taking its light

And its daily secrets,

Its chores, the heavy ones

And the light.

The overtired souls

Fell asleep and i stayed up

Alone,busying myself.

My pen, exhausted,

Allowed itself a break

While, lonely, I waited

 For you to come,to rise

 From where you were.

But you didn’t  care

About my drooping eyes.

You didn’t come!

 ****

The nightly silence

 was not silent anymore;

 It revealed its nocturnal

 Souls’ give- and- take.

The sound of the crickets

 Outside seemed close to me;

I could imaging their gestures

Trying to hold my mind

 In their very captures,

Trying to keep me company

But apart from yours,

 I didn’t want any.

Yet, you didn’t come!

****

Not far away,an owl

seeming lonely, like me,

Called from the outside tree;

I wondered if it was to call

Its lover nearby,

Or it tried to console me;

But it’s you i wanted

To be consoled by!

But you didn’t disdain to come.

 ****

Close to my window,

The cats’mews tore

The short silence

That was to follow,

Opting for the night’s privacy

Out of the human sight,

Or out of the female decency.

I waited for you to come,

To take me away from listening

To their love fair,

But you didn’t care;

You didn’t come.

****

In the house next door,

A baby’screams went right

To my loving heart,

Went very deep.

I felt like soothing its hunger,

I felt like enfolding it, lulling it asleep,

Caressing its soft head,

Taking it back to its sweet dream.

And I felt like being caressed by you;

But i called and you dared not answer;

You didn’t take the trouble come!

****

Now, the dawn- prayer duties call;

Don’t bother yourself at all;

It’s too late for me to recieve you;

Now, I should be alert

For  my prayer; don’t disconcert!

Oh, sleep! My eyes can do without you,

Can overcome your didain so far;

My mind can resist in waiting;

For, the night is worth contemplating.

Oh, sleep! Needless to come now!

Just  stay afar!

Photo by Yassine Abouyaala

© Morocco World News. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed

Him we shall fear, so, she after

We all born to salute you forever

Love and peace upon you mother

***

When infirm you stayed up nights

Sensing my needs only by sight

Caring for me you ever alert

Wishing my smile but you I hurt

***

The weary nine moons shall vow

The bleak times and heaves you sigh

To you godlike princess I bow

Bow to her in awe no matter how

***

When born you would hug me to breast

Feeding me twice autumns your potion

Balmy your tears; so your cosy nest

Blessed you! Your pat a patent lotion

***

Your unearthly desires I recollect

Blue berries now and times watery date

There are they then preferring naught

The creator’s wisdom to the great birth

***

I a crawler fascinates you a lot

Let alone toddling on earth joyful and safer

You shall be thanked and loved most

Would I grow up ever your cherished dream

***

A grown and fully blossomed spoiled boy

A bud you ever prayed for my sake

Could I live long and full life enjoy

Now ailing, I wish demise for your sake

Long, long ago, I was in trouble,

Or Shall I say, it was a minor's struggle

I was too young, too young to fall in love

None told me of the qualities I should have

To venture in a world of dreams

More dangerous than it firstly seems

Now there are so many things to tell

About a journey back from Hell

I realize that I am now but a shell

Of my former self before I fell.

I fell in love once,

I regret it and have repented ever since.

I knew that the shrine of love requires sacrifice,

One which is not chosen by a roll of dice,

It should be something I consider best

So I ripped my heart off my chest

I gave it willingly on a silver plate

To the one I thought to be my soul-mate

Now I realize I was mistaken,

For my sacrifice was lightly taken.

The plate in which I put my gift

Was carelessly thrown in a deep rift

I was more stubborn than a mule

“Fight for it!” That is the rule.

That is how my journey began

Before then, I was no poetry fan!

That is why I befriended my pen

I've written a few thousand words since then

I spent so much of my priceless time

Trying to hone my words to rhyme

I woke up on a sunny day,

I recall it was seventh of May,

To find out that my beloved one

Has finally acknowledged the effort I've done.

She sent a message, so short in deed,

But a few words was all I need.

That is when I loved the moon,

The stars in the sky and the sand in the dune

For me they all were the shadows of whom

Has saved my soul of a certain doom

However that was the day

When my poetry spark began to faint away.

I lived in the dreams world long enough

To tell how the shock of reality is rough

It is said that the higher you fly

The deadlier your fall is, from the sky.

I made the first step of proposal

But did not consider her family's refusal.

That ended our seven-year-lasting relationship

Leaving me sank in a deep meditation.

That was how I restarted my trip,

Wandering in the fields of imagination.

That time when I was not leading my poet's ship

I almost lost sight of my destination.

Alone in a dark sea of emotions

I saw a light coming my way

It carried so simple notions

Taking me to a safe bay

It gave me a magic potion

That took all the pain away.

Photo by Imen hentati

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There was a little, charming girl

Playing and hopping in the prairies

Her dreams, in her fantasy, whirl

When I met her in those verdant prairies

****

Hail, said I, to the fine maid

Trying but to unfold her world

Yet, she, my soul, unhappy made

When she uttered her first word

****

Here I came to resort alone

She, groaningly, started to speak

Her misery, in her eyes, shone

And she seemed so pale and weak

****

My life there, with the mob, I hate

For nobody can ken my need

My strong will seems to abate

And my heart does woefully bleed

****

But what made thy spirit in grief

And let you wander here alone

I soothingly asked trying to relieve

Her sorrow in a whimpering tone

****

Her reddish cheeks told she was coy

My dreams, said she, are to be torn

I’m bereft from my idol boy

For whom I was naturally born

****

And thus I left to this distant place

Where I can unpack my filled heart

I oft, my dear flowers, embrace

To soothe my soul that’s deeply hurt

****

I lonely ramble in these meadows

Chasing birds from croft to croft

Rejoicing the beauty that my nature bestows

And my dreams travel farther aloft

****

But Oh! My idol is there forsaken

Yet I’m here enjoying this solitude

And as you see my life, I’m making

For my will I strongly stood

****

Thus that fair maiden spoke

When I suddenly crossed her way

Her gentle words, my heart, broke

And no more words could I say

****

I couldn’t strangle a stormy sigh

And my tears, couldn’t hold back

Oh! How could that fair girl cry?

And her tears did, my feelings, crack.

Photo by Kaoutar Rouas

Lassaad Mahdhi is a Tunisian teacher of English who graduated from the University of Carthage, ISLT Bourguiba School in 2006, and got his MA in English literature and cross cultural studies in 2008.

Your beautiful eyes make me dream,

Dream of happiness and all the beautiful things of life.

 ****

Why should I look for other eyes?

 ****

When I can sail the rough seas on yours

And discover the marvels of the worlds

Walk the unwalked paths

Enjoy the smiles of children

Appreciate the innocent giggles of virgin girls

Extending their delicate hands to their aspirant lovers

Discover the beauty of mother earth

Not spoiled by rough humanity

 ****

Why should I look for other eyes?

 ****

When sincerity bursts to life from your look

And fills our unhappy world

With beauty and bliss

And a wind of exhilaration

Buffets the faces of all the wretched

And brings hope back to their beings

And tranquillity to their souls

 ****

Why should I look for other eyes?

 ****

When poets write their verses

With the colours of your eyes

And drink their wine

In the shade of their warmth

And ships sail to safety on their direction

 ****

Why should I look for other eyes?

 ****

When I can swoon with their fragrance

And wake up in a world of fantasy

Where you are my queen

And I your king

Living in a kingdom of brotherhood of men

Happily ever after

Not having to bother at all with

Jealousy

Lies

Avidity,

Pollution

War

Terrorism

Poverty

 ****

Why should I look for other eyes?

 ****

When I am totally

Taken by yours

For ever and ever.

© Morocco World News. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed

All living babies squall at birth

Though welcomed with mirth;

Do they feel life’s misery flare

Or see death brandish in the air?

****

Soon they forget; they’ve just been told,

Enjoying life, ignoring death at the treshold.

They grow up scattered like stars, numerous;

Making their own day, some bright, others less.

****

Yet, a star has blown itself up in the day light,

Unable to forget, to resist the dark and fight,

The dark, its shadow, that’s made it prim,

Eclipsing its day into a premial night, then dim.

****

Like a quarry in a soundless hunting game,

The star has died out, preceding its name;

Putting an end to its journey of hope;

In this gory film, the hero was just a rope.

****

The astral glint was a mirage, a water pool

In the desert, accessible to the thirsty ones,

Filled by woe for its drought, like bereft swans,

Filling it with mourning tears, as it’s the rule.

****

In an atoning act, one that is, and not, brave,

He took his long heaved secrets to his grave;

What was gnawing at his conscience, what guilt

Has made him weed out what was long built?

****

The star has blown himself up reducing his span to naught,

Cutting short his story with its fuzzy, firm knot;

Redeeming it his right to bring his light to an end,

Conspiring with the devil, shaking its hand.

****

I wonder which to be mourned and cursed ;

His self-extinction or life’s pressure burst?

May he mercifully rest in a heavenly home,

Not under the ground like a ghostly gnome!

© Morocco World News. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed

As my soul begins to fray,

All the skies turn gray.

My being is in denial

Of all that makes you smile.

****

Very hard I try

But Lord! I can only cry.

Disillusioned I feel

Is anything even real?

****

Only grief and sorrow

Don’t want no tomorrow.

My body’s now mad

For my soul is too sad.

****

Struggle my way out of me

No longer want me to be…

****

Body’s weak and bloody

Yet to leave, still not ready.

© Morocco World News. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed

Hey you tyrant oppressor!

Lover of darkness, enemy of life

You sneered at the soughs of an oppressed nation

And your hands are tainted with its blood

You marched spoiling the magic of existence

And sowing thorns on its hills

Slow down, don't be fooled by spring,

Clear weather and morning light

 For in the wide horizon there is dreadful darkness,

Roaring thunder, and hurling wind

Watch out! for you have uncovered the blazing embers

And he who sows thorns collects scars

 Behold! over there,

Where you harvested people's heads

And flowers of hope,

And soaked the earth's core with blood

And got it drunk on tears

You shall be swept away by the stream,

The stream of bloods

And you shall be consumed by the fire storm

Edited by Chokri Omri

As if your body were  just a corpse

As if it were a hateful enemy of yours,

You’re mangling it without remorse.

As if the grey air, your wheezy breath

Were not enough to ruin your health,

Sent inside like fire eating logs in a heath.

As if you already lived in atmosphere,

As if your life were safe from any fear,

As if your soul was cheap not dear;

You are killing it with just a tiny weapon,

A paper stick beating you into the open,

As if you needed soot, your life to blacken,

As if it had a taste, a pleasant perfume,

You burn it and your life into fume;

It decides on, ratifies your own doom.

I see you run to its hold in a haste

You  light, inhale it, you find its foul taste

A relief, ignoring its lurking waste.

You don’t know what you dearly miss

While keeping it betweem your lips

In a long, slow, breezing and sooty kiss.

It snakes inside you, biting your lungs,

You feel its illusionary lust not its fangs;

You generously or indifferently share

The danger of which you ‘re not aware.

If it had the power of strength, a magic spell

The whole world would live just on its smell;

If its power made you forget your own worries,

The paper stick’d be as scarce as rare currencies

And all the written words’d revolve its burning fee.

And the smoke would not flee the productive bees.

If your smoking idols were sane with their stink,

As you  fancy, in their life and their show-biz,

If none of them ‘re distroyed by the heady drink

And their lung burning, raptly performing their due,

Ignoring its danger and those silly fans like you,

Not wanting to think of the crimes that ensue,

Innocently contributing to legal, civil murders,

Starting by themselves, ramping to the others,

Those gently coaxed into the vice, easy to fool,

Caring more of fame and less of the human soul.

© Morocco World News. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed

If you have nothing to do nor even to give

For people who find it so difficult to live,

Simply give them a real, thoughtful smile,

It may be as generous as the flowing Nile,

   Only a smile;

****

See, money is like a bird you cannot ensure.

It can make you at ease, desert you and fool.

Give the poor one a mere smile to make sure

With hope you have imbued his empty soul

  Through a rich smile.

****

A smile to the sick  can be much healing;

You really don’t know what is in the offing,

But  you do see and feel what they endure;

So smile to them, make it but a bit of a cure,

Your  hearty  smile.

****

To children without a safe shelter , no ceiling,

Or bossom to hold them, lend yours to rest in.

Give them just a caressing and  loving smile;

It’ll warm them days and nights long or awhile;

    Just  your smile.

****

In the corner sits a sad, elderly man alone,

With a stick supporting his bent backbone.

His memory is a set of past events, a big file;

Break his silent loneliness with your smile,

 Your attentive smile.

****

Give the blind one a helpful cheering hand,

The deaf-and-dumb a patient, smiling nod;

Help them on your way to reach their end,

And if you can be of some use, thank God

    For being able to smile!

****

Even on an off-day, to the needy keep smiling;

You have nothing to lose but rather a lot to win.

You have some of people’s misery to deplete;

Never be lax on this soothing task, never effete;

   Just go on smiling.

I will never forget that rainy day,

The day God decided to take you away.

****

You left to go ride with your friend,

Only to never come back home again.

 ****

It's been two weeks since you've left,

And I still can't say the word "death."

 ****

Day by day I think of you,

How can all of this be true?

 ****

I can’t believe you’re really gone,

I still can’t accept it, even after so long.

****

Just the thought of you makes me cry,

I never even got the chance to say goodbye.

 ****

You left us sad, while still a young man,

Just one summer more, I wish that you can.

 ****

So many things I never got to say,

I never imagined you’d be so far away.

 ****

In my heart you’ll always be,

You’ll be my guide and help me see.

 ****

I’ll never forget your soothing voice,

I would take your place if I had a choice.

 ****

I wish we never had to part,

I miss you with all of my heart.

 ****

I hated Casablanca because you’re not there,

If I never come back, I really don’t care.

****

You were the big brother that I never had,

God knows how much I am sad.

 ****

I know you will always be by my side,

But I guess it is time to say goodbye.

© Morocco World News. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed

Even as I surrender and fall

I admit I loved in you the things I dislike

For you my dear I gave it all

Even the things I had at stake.

Spare me the scourge of war

For I’ve drowned my swords in the lake,

She may now inhabit your ill-fated soul

Persist the loving she excels to fake.

Whence she came I do not recall

But your heart she may now take;

Your hopes, dreams, and all

For to you my love I’ve built a dyke,

An unreachable sky-scraping wall

Railed off with shattered glass and spike.

So when I desert, trouble not to call

Do not caress where my heart ache,

I shall now surrender without a brawl

Soothe this aching pain to wake,

In a lifeless, miserable world I shall

Hear the sound of Music and read for Blake.

© Morocco World News. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed

Like ghostly melodies,

Travelling the air,

Caressing the souls,

Yet none can ever see them.

****

Whirling in a glare,

Wings unseen to mortals,

She pierces all the portals,

Of a heart I never sealed.

****

Yet of bones and flesh she's made,

And like all of us she'll fade,

Leaving nada for a heir,

But a sour tune that'd allayed.

****

But until then,

A net none shall toss at her,

A row none shall aim at her,

Her harp's tunes I still need,

For a soul that’d always bow to her.

© Morocco World News. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed

Safi, Morocco

This isn’t the last of the hugs,

There will be even more

Like this one, those of before

Under time and death’s eyes

And life’s booming cries,

In a world torn into slit rugs.

This is not the last hug,

The moment when life succumbs

And when it powerlessly comes

To an agreement with death

Saying nothing, holding its breath,

Waiting for a little soul to rise

Under its vain, sorrowful cries

And death taking delivery of it;

Time has another page to edit

On the rejoicing of its company

To the extremes of its destiny

Until the threshold of heaven,

in a life where everything’s even;

There,*Dorra’s waiting as an angel,

A martyr on who time had to tell;

Now it can memorize very well

That hug, that bleeding farewell

Of Dorra’s similar extinction,

And others needless to mention,

Other hugs in such a beastly scene;

In such inhuman rage with no vaccine.

Death, despite its hard assimilation,

Makes of another hug, great salvation.

By Najoua Bijjir - Amsterdam

Land of Holy

Pilgrimage

Mortals claiming

Heritage

Marked by footpaths

Of fools

Killing human jewels

 ****

Jerusalem

In thy Holy ground

 Is buried

The face of innocence

Harmed by sadist dunce

Leaving peace

In absence

 ****

Land where Prophets

Kneeled became

Endless battlefields

Upon thy soil

Children are used as

Human shields

 ****

Bombed and destroyed

In mothers’ uterus

 Fools claiming heritage

In the monopoly of

Raging materialists

 ****

We are Jerusalem

Our human nature reflects upon

Thy soil

Leaving thus destructive marks

In Jerusalem’s soul

A mother, plucking her heart off her chest,

Feeling bitter, to look strong doing her best,

Said to the last of her leaving sons, bravely:

This is your great day as a lover of the nation

To which you’re bound by great infatuation;

You’ve been chosen and responded eagerly;

 Here’s my gift signed with my ample blessing

Here’s my heart, I ‘m not in need of its whining

Pulse or its stocks of love or of fear any longer;

Look at our homes falling one after one into pieces

And our trees in their very spring, unexpectedly

Losing their green leaves and raw fruits so early,

And this thunder in our heads that never ceases;

Take my heart and leave with my full blessing;

What’s the use of the moon without nightly rest

That of the sun if there’s no home to shine in,

Of a shield with no stout arms but a pelted chest!

Here’s my heart, I still have my alert, sharp ears,

At full attention, and eyes with bleeding tears

But so far able to register the coming event;

For, soon, when the scoundrels’ bellies in craze

Get filled, living on our blood, rejoicing our rage

When the curtains are drawn, undressing

Their artful treason, raveling out its maze,

Revealing their real, pale faces onstage,

I’ll take you the cheering news as it’s seen,

That of our small but plucky stone’s victory rings

And the cries of all the weapons facing our slings;

So go ahead like the martyrs gone before you;

My eyes will be mourning you to the last stitch

And before we meet in the hereafter anew

I’ll sow love in the eyes of our land, in every inch!

© Morocco World News. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed

White inside, despite my black skin;

That’s the contrast of life, I imagine.

Just like you,i have got light red blood;

My heart sings life in drowning flood;

My white smile proves my innocence

From a charge that is clear nonsense;

I’m black; if you can’t stand the evidence,

Ask nature to revise both our existence.

 ****

Ask, before, about our ancestors’ history,

About mine’s struggle for freedom, in fury;

About their endurance for their dignity,

Ask about your ancestors’ inhumanity;

Their whips on mine’s bodies, their tears;

Ask about their wounds, too deep for tears;

Ask how they had to sleep and what to eat;

About the refrain of the shakles in their feet.

 ****

Ask how they survived their owners’ fright;

Ask why some had dreamed of being white!

Ask and ask to know and think, then ask;

Ask the longed for night what made it dark,

Ask the black birds why they always sing:

It’s to forget scars, bad memories that sting.

You’ll be told by the jazzy tunes, by the blues

Wailing my ancestors’ pain; only then, muse;

 ****

Muse on why our anger’s as black as our skin,

Which lets the pride of our colour not give in;

For, if the colours of the world, by time, fade;

Ours’s everlasting, not dull, and so it’s made.

Our women’ll bear as many blacks as they can

Because your rules haven’t enclosed love ban!

Our roots’ll go deep; only snakes change skins!

But,as descendants from Adam-Eve, we’re kins.

 ****

As human beings, we’re certainly not paragons

But we are not either scary, harmful dragons;

We are today’s children and men of tomorrow.

Let’s make of our colours a nice world to grow;

Let’s put aside our weaknesses, our differences,

Spare our children hate and forget our offences.

Now, there’s no more slave to buy or to redeem

But  your own mind for yours and our esteem;

So let’s get the King’s great dream come true,

If not, let’s just peacefully give the devil its due!

Farewell, dear pure love, dear sweetness