Heart Controller

I inherited earthly Arab genes, both new and old, And ancient ones, too, full of wisdom and royalty, But elders have seen enough and grew inpatient, Thus, conspiring against the young lost generation, Observing their abnormal putrid talks and walks, Denying it over the years without uttering a word. And so, my ancient genes recreated themselves Into an independent and different living being, Detached from me: a twenty-year-old flesh,   Placing forth relics and coins unknown to us, Purchasing survival kits: only dates and water, Basic nutritional needs, enough for decades, Enough to send a message to the forlorn souls. Simple logical symbols from his ancient tongue Reach our ears to guide us into rediscovering Our true vicious foe removing the blinding mist That has masked my people’s eyes ceaselessly. Once the long lost calligraphies have been delivered He will start to dissociate back into ancient genes, And reconnect with a twent...

I played the game ‘invaders’ as a kid, With one battleship against the aliens, Even in the movies they show it to us, One versus all and the one always wins, But as a kid, I was taught otherwise, Few may triumph over the many, Never one person, always in a group, Though, this is not my story today, I speak here and now to reveal it, Reveal those invaders; oppressors, The ones who wore pure white Disguising their darkened hearts, With red stripes dripping of blood, Ours', but when they rule it is love, Red is only a sign of love; grace, And it does not stop here at all, They create us into a class system, Showing us the need for poverty, How to rule citizens in oppression, How to sell resources for money, Replying: “not our fault this is a Dog-eat-dog world, so play along”, You see, what they really mean is: Green notes gives you status, power, For me, faith gives me status, power, Blessing me with wisdom in my eyes, And I w...

I have done no wrong and yet I am being treated like a criminal, Who am I? Another person of you to recoil a bullet of pain? You have been close to me all of my life even when I am afar, But when I try to get near you sabotage the road as if a game, Emotion is what I am giving you right now for you to spread, And if you did have the courage to speak the truth and be just Then let them hear your roar against our past and their future, You are not them and they are but vultures scavenging on my innocence, Are these words enough for me to convince you about who I am? Who am I? I have talked enough, I guess, but will you ever act? Emotions is what you sought, so here are mine to share, here! Take them and make a sculpture out of them in your house, Invite them to keep sucking my blood out of me like mosquitoes, Though, I know you would not because you are a gorgeous lioness, Who roars in her inner self against the oppressors in her cave, So listen. Just...

Part A: This is not Us I am still discovering Dubai, And I am a local, an Emirati, So I enter one of the districts The security officer stopped me,   “Sorry sir, but you cannot enter, This is a private community, Only residents are allowed, Even if you just want to pass thru.” I am still discovering Dubai, And I am a local, an Emirati, So I enter one of the malls, I see indecent men and women, So I go to the security officer,   “Sorry sir, but I cannot do that, Even if they go against the law, Even if there are posters showing What is decent and what is not.” I am still discovering Dubai, And I am a local, an Emirati, So on my way to meet my cousin I pass by Jumeirah road at night, And I see some of my people, Altered into beings of indecency, This is not the Emirati identity, Nor is it from the pure culture. Part B: This is still not Us And so I hold this local pen To share these discoveries, To ask myself...

Waiting for the gate to open, Bags next to me ready to board, I open one to extract a poet, To understand her imaginative literature, And next I see a young girl and her mom, Very active! Maybe very excited to travel, Maybe someone awaits her at the other side, Or it could even be an adventure, She started drumming the chair, ever-so-slightly, Then wiggling her legs, Now moving herself in her seat back and fro, I observe all of that as I continue reading, Maybe too much sweets or chocolates? I try to ignore her, not that she is disturbing me, But I thought she might be interesting Enough to write a poem, I guess, And here I am scribbling these words, To show you the innocence of a young kid, Who still lives in her own little world, And as she takes a peek at the poems I am reading, I remembered myself doing the same, Curious as to the contents of the reader, So, even in her colourful world She glances over into reality, Soon after ...