The Final Yellow Leaf

The Final Yellow Leaf
By Nabil Abou Baker
4/2/10

We finally moved into the bigger
House with mama, dad, May and grandpa. I
Chose the room – overlooked the street – passing by
Cars. Grandpa spent his time by a copper
Clock, staring at nature standing close by.
He used to forget many things, his daughter –
My mama. Like the time, I told a lie
To keep from trouble – I forgot where my

New shoes were! I remember my old house
Had an oak out front. During winter he
Used to say that it never completely
Shed its leaves. I really don’t understand
How he was able to remember that fact.
Winter – four years – that final yellow leaf fell.

Your Eyes Lie to Me

Your Eyes Lie to Me
By Nabil Abou Baker
02/06/2010


“Please, please, please,” Repetitiously ran over
Again and over again, until he came.
I quickly glanced at him and knew a frame
Has been placed on my portrait. “Don’t answer
Your question. I see you’re either – actor
Or author in this play. Either in game
Or manipulating my fearless flame.
Lie to me. Lie! You still stand with – honor.”

Her eyes fixated, did not change the bold
Letters – metastatic. Scenarios,
Choices and outcomes – endlessly their mold
Ran over again and over again. Cast that hollow
Figure away. “There was an error, moments
Ago. Return, in a week” – reassurance.

Colored Amply, Nurtured Calmly Eastward, Ready

Colored Amply, Nurtured Calmly Eastward, Ready
By Nabil Abou Baker
11/18/2009

“You just have to see her?”, his heart murmured.
“I heard what had happened, I am my sorry
For your loss Mister Darcey. Her colored
World was slowly fading, losing amply,
The paint of life, but not love. You nurtured
Her through—this time; just want you to—calmly
Follow me—and I will take you—eastward,
To where Lizzy quietly ‘waits, ready.”

“You just have to see her.”, the husband said.
“Mister Darcey, Mister Darcey, Mister
Darcey!” They both stood there as his fear led
His mind down a wasteland path of utter
Desolation, more than a hand full of
Dust. “You just have to see her!”, cried Darcey.

Camino Inca

Camino Inca
from Travels
By Nabil Abou Baker
7/21/10

Wak’ay Wilica – Veronica’s potent
Powerful peak piercing the sky ‘versing
With Inca’s sun. Snow resting on the peak
Wages war with the – white innocent – sick clouds,
Mirroring the tribal legend of the
Winay Wayna – the prince of Yunkas and
The princess of Antis forbidden love,
A class’ Shakespearean love – that ended
Tragically in Wilkamayu – sacred
River – the river that divided vicious
Vilcabamba from the other under
Powered Urubamba. But history
Played one mountain falling – to be reborn.
From Veronica fell Cuzco’s last tear.

Red (III)

Red (III)
from Colors
By Nabil Abou Baker
6/10/2010

I grabbed the flawlessly sharp knife and brought it closer to my wrist.
“Go ahead, no ones gonna give a shit!
Do it!
What are you gonna chicken out.
Oh yeah – that’s right you never finish anything.
Just like you won’t finish this, now!
You never had any guts!”
“That’s not true –“
“What?
Are you blind and stupid?
No one gives you a minute of their time,
Not your mother, brothers or sisters.
No one.
Not your friends nor stupid annoying teachers.”
“Shut up.”
A tear for every person who supposedly knew me
Ran down my face as
Red ran down my arms
And to the carpeted ground.