Seriously

Did i learn from past mistakes..!
Did i attempt to to retake..!
The lost ground and claim glory..!
Have you ever felt sorry..!
It is easy going and not taken seriously, letting opportunity slip continuously.
As escaping the life miraculously, No bid for full thrust and wonder aimlessly.
Seldom you try rise to the occasion, You action is not full hardy and raises many questions.
It may pay you no award, You will be denied full reward
One has to be fully contended, The thrust has to be well intended.
It is to learn from past and surge ahead, No to cry for split milk and positively lead.
I shall have to mend the ways, It is useful and guidance always.
The things can’t turn bright all of sudden, You will have to make all out efforts even.
It may look all philosophical talk, It may help us really when in life we walk.
The life is meaningless without any talent, You have think twic before giving consent.
What else can be decisive factor..!
It may be faced in any sector.
You got to emerge as victorious, But the efforts have to be continuous.
Not to look back but march towards destiny, It may be looked as idealism to many.
Believe me no other way is left to think over, When we need proper guidance and cover.

أ.. ب .. سياسه

سئل  طفل والده : ما معنى الفساد السياسي
فأجابه : لن أخبرك يا بني لانه صعب عليك في هذا السن،لكن دعني أقرب لك الموضوع
انا اصرف على البيت لذلك فلنطلق علي اسم الرأسمالية...
و امك تنظم شؤون البيت لذلك سنطلق عليها اسم الحكومة...
و انت تحت تصرفها لذلك فسنطلق عليك اسم الشعب...
و اخوك الصغير هو املنا فسنطلق عليه اسم المستقبل...
اما الخادمة التي عندنا فهي تعيش من ورائنا فسنطلق عليها اسم القوى الكادحة
اذهب يا بني وفكر عساك تصل الى نتيجة.....
و في الليل لم يستطع الطفل ان ينام .. فنهض من نومه قلقآ و سمع صوت أخيه الصغير يبكي فذهب اليه فوجده بل حفاضته.
ذهب ليخبر امه فوجدها غارقة في نوم عميق ولم تستيقظ ،
و تعجب أن والده ليس نائما بجوارها..
فذهب باحثآ عن أبيه
فنظر من ثقب الباب الى غرفة الخادمة فوجد أبوه معها بوضع منافي للاخلاق ...
و في اليوم التالي
قال الولد لابيه! : لقد عرفت يا أبي معنى الفساد السياسي .
فقال الوالد: وماذا عرفت ..
قال الولد :
عندما تلهو الرأسمالية بالقوى الكادحة وتكون الحكومة نائمة في سبات عميق فيصبح الشعب قلقا تائها مهملاً تماماً و يصبح المستقبل غارقا في القذارة...

trust in god.. "118672"

We forgive seeking for getting comfort from bile,
We forget hoping for new innocent clear smile,
We keep silent because there is no benefit in the argument to find,
We ignoring for there is nothing that will hold back reproach can find,
We are patient because our trust in the Creator has no limits,
We all knew that ...
The self always covetous yet the reasons are always failing.
The self is lost between despair and growling,
Do not be sad whenever the world shrinking around you while it grows wider for others,
And look at the moon and this darkness skies how they became more magnificence together,

Wounds

Wounds are a city of pain... You screams with the last breath of your fading determination.... And only the echo of your tears replying.

Homelessness

Home is a dim, half remembered thought, 
Like a quest of old, by knights long sought.
That humanity, for an ideal, furiously fought.
Home only a dim and faded dream, 
Like leaves carried rapidly by a stream.
That bring to mind, memories, so serene.
Home a place to finally rest my weary feet, 
And under that old live oak, take a shady seat.
And at last, finally, once more feel complete.
Home is where my heart should be, 
I hope it went there, when I set it free.
I pray that it's there, wating for me.

لا بأس يا دنيا الفناء

دآئما هناك زوايا في داخلنا تبقى غير قابلة للعرض والإطلاع وهناك آلاما نعيشها في وسط أفراحنا لنخبئها بين ملامح الفرح ونوافذ لا نفتحها إلا في بداية الفصول ونهايتها و دائمآ هناك كلمات محذوفة من حديثنا رغم أنها حقيقة شعورنا..
وصمت طويل يقطع كل الآمال المعلقة ليحولها لحكايا متكررة في شريط ذاكرتنا الخرساء..
كل المشاعر والآمال والآلام التي طال عرضها ولم تجد صداها الحقيقي ولم تفهم كما هي؛ ترحل لمساحة الصمت البيضاء ..
تلك المساحة الواسعة التي ضاع بها الكثير من الأحلام والمشاعر والحقائق والتي طالما تعرضت للهزات والانهيارات المتكررة إلا أنها لا زالت أطهر من كثير ظنون وأجمل من كثير بوح
فما أجمل الصمت عندما يصبح أحد أصدقائنا في حكايا الخذلان، ومنفى البوح عندما يعدم الكلام ويحار الدمع مساحة خاصة جدا بين روح ونبضها تبقى صامدة..
لا تعافك عندما تطيل التأمل في تفاصيلها ولا تسأمك عندما تكرر كثيرا من أحداثها حتى الدمع الذي يتساقط ﻷجلها في كل مرة كأنما أول مرة يهطل لينبت بها كثير من زهور الأمل..

ودائما أشياءنا لا تكتمل ولا تستمر جميلة أم قبيحة دائما هناك نقص مهما زادت أشياءنا وتقادمت أرقام أعمارنا ودروس مندسة بين سطور حياتنا تنير شيئا من عتمة الغموض..

دائما في الحياة عمرآ آخر يذكر عندما نموت، وتصبح حياتنا أجمل عندما نفقد ونصبح لا سبيل للوصول إلينا، كل المحاسن بنا تحيا عندما نموت
ومادام أننا على قيد الحياة سنبقى الأسوأ مهما كنا أجمل وسيبقى الكلام يرمى علينا، ويبقى للأعداء كيد مستمر، ويبقى كثير من البياض يدنس بكثير من الكذب والسوء والسخف....

لا بأس يا دنيا الفناء.. لا بأس
ففي الرضا جنة معجلة وفي ذلك حكمة لخالقنا .. فالجنة موطن الكمال والجمال الأبدي الذي لا يتغير ولا يتحول الجنة التي ندعو بها دوما هي بالتأكيد الذي لا ينقص بها جمال ولا يختلط بأفراحها أحزان..والصبر على نقص الحياة ومتناقضاتها زاد جميل للظفر بالكمال والجمال والراحة الأبدية..

I'm grateful for what I've and thankful for what I haven't.

You will still keeping be sad and afraid of losing the people and things dear to your heart, until you'll learn to be afraid of them creator more than what he gave you once and you have lost.

Creativity lost,

ِAnd here comes the question "does creativity is idea or will" ?
Personally i denied the idea about the fourth stages of creativity theory, or even Plato or Freud theory
"Inspiration" leads to some "ideas" then "creativity" must glow bright in it's form whichever it'll be, Some of the great thinkers have spoken of inspiration from various magazines of interest to all scholars and intellectuals in a purely academic way.
With my respect for them all I see inspiration as the basis of any creativity
has two paths emerge
The first is the creativity that stems from the feeling and feeling that the artist develops in a way that the recipient understands for art.
And creativity stemming from the idea of whether it touches the artist himself or just another work added to his art.
Personally I am not qualified for pure poetic experience
I prefer the poetic experience stemming from a sincere sense.
So as for example, few days ago i deeply feel that i miss my beloved.. and i'm willing to let her know that through my words, so i inked those words for her,

How much I care..

"Close your eyes let me take your hand, i can't begin to know your fears I'll never understand. 
But for a fleeting moment let me soothe your pain, for just a passing second before you go back to your reality again. 
So, lay your head upon my chest.. feel the beat of my heart as i gently stroke your hair, and whisper softly to your warm ear, I miss you.. do you even know how much I care"

Now how to ask for creativity from someone who does not have his own inspiration, I miss you and i can't do more for I miss you.

Whatever

The only thing I can find now... is emptiness, isolated and left alone to die,
The only thing left, is to sit and and watch you completely deny,
My lost in a world full of darkness, with my arms outstretched,
Does life is nothing but a trick uphill, it's get harden every time i try collect together the pieces left of my will,
And with each swing of a pendulum and tick of my clock, the world start shrinking and their's nobody to talk.
I don't even know I'm hoping for what, hoping for light, life moves on, and there’s no one to help me in this fight.

Pain

Naked body in bed, like you once said, 
Now we asking the silence to scream,
Since our naked souls lost in vanishing dream,
In endless cloud, and now it's raining... blood,
Pain... Pain howls blind in the park, even love... losing the spark,
And when sun fold her beam, we ran to hide again... beneath... the dark.

Depression

On the edge of depression
Dreams meet reality on the land of resources unavailabilities, The waves of determination crashing on the rocks of the tributary and systems infertility, And we fall like the victims between the flowers of hope and that endless thorns of disappointments... Step after another we lose the spirit of the fighter, we see everything is diverted. Then we surrender to the reality.

End of story

Poor clown has been fall in love with queen, he tired trying to know where the princes live, she happily tired of cheating him, and as sea waves never stop from breaking in sea shore both of them never giving up play his role in this story,
The clown spent each and every coin he earns through his miserable life hoping to meet the queen one more time, while she kept set him up from lie to another, and because he was honest dealing with her lies, he spent year after another satisfying her wishes, believing that one day she will say the true place where she lives,
one day he awakes up from his long journey to knew that the queen accept to meet him in Netherlands, and it was a long long journey from where he unsed to live, 
and again as usual he start to get ready for his life journey willing to see her once and last time, and because he was poor, and because he knocked all the doors he knew to his family and friends asking them for help, 
he couldn't has the journey requirements, he spend so long nights thinking what still remains to do..
So, few days later he remember a story once from a long time ago his father had told him, about white and red rose, " a beautiful red rose was fall in love with white rose which was ignore and refuse this love, the red rose tried all means were necessary to drive this white rose to love it... to talk to it, to just blossom in its face, and one day the white rose decided to has a chat with this red rose, 
- good morning my love, would you just tell me when you will love me as I love you ? "red rose ask'
- good morning, let me tell you when i love you.. "white rose reply"
 watch me everyday and when my petals will turn its color to red, i'll be in love with you"
Red rose kept all the spring watch the white rose and nothing happened.. and white rose finally decide to cut his stem to bleed his blood into his lover this wild white rose to turn her color to red with his blood"
finally the red rose did it, and the white rose turned her color to red, but red rose died trying.
So, the clown said why not, i can also bleed to see the queen love me, he went to a doctor and said, i want to sail a part of my life, could you do this to me, first he refused to reply the clown, then after a long thinking, the doctor accepted to take a part of this poor clown and give him money for his journey,
the clown was so afraid to die as the red rose, but he accept that beam of hope as a gift from god,
two days later spent in hospital doctor knock the door and said to him..
"I'm sorry i have a bad news" doctor said,
O.. what news tell me if you please. "the clown reply"
We can't take this part of you for it is not as quite good as we need, "doctor.
the clown went to his home wondering how he can get ready for his journey ..!
clown older daughter asked him, my father when you were out, your friend brought this package and asked me to give it to you,
the clown reply "who"..!
I don't knew him "daughter"
surprisingly it was the money he promised to got from the doctor, the same amount.. a tears fallen from his eyes, had been hidden from his daughter,
the clown hurry to pray for god, and start again to manage his steps to be ready to his journey,
he was willing to tell the queen that everyday he spend, he just spends it in a new steps on the way of his journey,
then he decided to ink her a letter telling her that he do everything he can to meet her, 
few days later he got reply from "the queen" just five lines
The Curtain fell
The show is over
The seats emptied...

It was theater.
It wasn't love.
...
end of story

What if

The chance remains probable and true, to Understand the Blessings from the sky
That our god sent down and knew, of the miracles we could perform, if only we try.
So close your eyes and embrace me, focus on all good moments to you and me, clear your mind and tell me what you see, now forget all your sorrow, because each day you promises me a "New Tomorrow".
When God gave us life we received a choice, to bask in the wrong or to rejoice
To work and do right or perform all the wrong, but eventually the time will come along.... Where all will have to eventually move on
And pray at night and bless the dawn since life is full of more blessings than all the world could understand... even with a crown.

In your fake perfect world, i was the tool

You think I'm a fool, just like any unwanted tool, Residing at the bottom of the tool box, decaying rusting unwanted to all.
I cling to false hope of love and help them to things mend
I try all possibilities to give my best but they just fling me back beneath the rest
I gave my all to help again but to try to speak I'm the lowest of men
It proves I'm the least important tool of all,
So into the bottom of the tool box again I fall. 

It's called LIFE.

listen carefully, to those so simple words ... there are life's questions are tough to answer.
To doubt ones self can make a 'what if' wonder.
The color of love is red but so is the thought of feelings murder. 
One persons perception can be another's deception. 
What is constant...? 
What will remain..? 
Some think time will end and others that heavens promise will begin. 
Can you tell me the definition of love and who really created hate..? 
Can you tell me what friend will always be there no matter what..? 
What about the enemy you should always keep close..! Are they truly your enemy then..? 
What is the meaning of a tear..? 
Does it mean you are no longer sad when you have none left..? 
I know love, have experienced it first hand with you. God has given me that. yet I still wonder about the original plan... O, I forgot to send my congratulations for your winning, and you also forgot to remember that; there is a big 'if' between Love and Endurance. It's called LIFE.

understanding

Life Begins from no total understanding... to a full stupidity 
In life there is so many twists and turns, we never know whats going to happen next, So we keep our head up and keep trying in a stupid race called living
yet in this world few can make it, but a lot of us always fail to understand how to make they dreams come true or even how it works at first place,
So we work hard to achieve our goals, we set them high, and waiting in the cloud to watch them vanish with the wind.

It will vanish at some point

I'm starting to believe that to some of us 'happiness is just a word', When everything you try turn to fall apart, you become furious and a target of the voices in your head. You watch the time tick listening to its sound as it passes you. Still you remain left alone inside your own shell of nightmares. Becoming far away from the light and the people surrounding you.
You can feel the demons haunting your soul, preying on your thoughts. Life gets really harder as your life get filled with more mistakes, discouragement events, disappointments and failures.
You keep telling yourself that your turn is coming, same words being spoken by your family, father and friends after witnessing the sorrow soul in your face. 
If happiness was a bird, you'd be the first to seize it, hoping to find some comfort to unbroken your heart. But really life gets darker and days more stressing than before. All the motivations are starting to sound like lies. Your faith in your will is slowly becoming nothing, for everything you believe in is not going accordingly. 
So keep calm, even though it doesn't help at all. You've tried your best to succeed, but know I assure you, beating yourself from inside will vanish at some point.

Another travel failure

Have you ever lost something out of your hand, Clean out of your unlocked hand..? One breath it was there, the next, gone, vanished; the stupid thing spirited away suddenly into thin air,
Have you gone back and forth in disaffection..! 

Do you pray every day through pains..!
Do you have endless stream of tears..!
Do you travel in lone roads of dead ends..!
Do you wake with screams of freedom ?
Do you feel lost, raped, stripped of rights ?
Do you suffer the indignity of inhumanity, your skin color or even your religion ?
Come with me to one with helpful solutions
Come with me to pathfinder friend of mine. let us pray someday soon death come take the pains..
There is no new songs.. else all in vain my tears and my pain.
Here is my hand to keep, my heart ... Take it, and do not weep.

Stay alive please..

For being a good friend, thank you, I'd never knew that you're my horse to ride on, and to look out on the world
You see through my disguise, You did never let me be that ordinary man.
For the knowledge you instilled in me, now I'm filling out some paperwork,
I search within myself to find a way to put a blame, and queries on you.
When I was a toddler and I didn't.
Did you ever realize, how much I love you.!!!
And the though of losing you brings tears into my eyes and destroy everything beautiful from my vision,
Though you taught me real men... O please ... don't cry, It so hard for me to hold it back.
There are special people around the world, but we "you and i" are so special in this world our own small world. Its hard for them to understand The bond between you and I,
Is what deepens our connection in I, myself, My father and My son.
This is a so very hard day for me my fathers.. please stay strong, just please don't you ever pass away.. don't you know that you will leave me alone in this world.
Thank you, you dedicated me your life
My mentor, the greatest teacher I ever had, not enough to put into words,
I just wish I could, make you proud of me.

mother's day

Life ... every day we dream of conquering new continents and kingdoms without realizing all are illusions
And without realizing the final reality will one day envelop us
So finality is the true reality 
Life, that wonderful dream never meets with reality till its final moment called death, 
that was the only words my dad said the day we grave my mother, happy mother's day Mom may god blessings spreading upon your soul