Wishing Well

Wishing Well
By Nabil Abou Baker
5/18/2010

He stood there – peering down the black abyss,
Unable to see the actual depth of
The water. After staring long enough
He began to see what resembled her,
Her reflection that is, in the water.
He lifted and dropped a round gray stone
Down the well – the bottomless pit. The stone
Never made a sound. It was quietly
Engulfed by the darkness. Though he did
See the stone distort her image for only some
Moments. He placed both his hands in their own
Respective pockets and pulled out a ring
With the right and a coin with the left hand.
He paused and thought and threw the right one.

Trotamundos Café

Trotamundos Café
from Travels
By Nabil Abou Baker
7/21/10

The Plaza de Armas
Is divided by green
Geometric figures,
Split by paths filled with a
Number of different
People – mostly tourists
That could easily be
Spotted from far sitting –
Conversing on dark grass
Tinted benches, taking
Pictures of the buildings –
Cathedral, fountain and
Spanish architecture,
Consisting of arches
And balconies on the
Perimeter of the
Square. Peruvian flags –
Red – white – red – small – coatless
Flags decorated the
Lampposts and restaurants,
But there, in front of the
Cathedral steps – two large
Flags – Peru’s with the coat-of-
Arms and the sole rainbow
Inca symbol of the
Old nation – horizon
Stripes – red – orange – yellow –
Green – blue – ‘digo – violet.
Among all the Armas’
Unarranged people, dogs
Aimlessly wandering,
Seed picking pigeons,
Smoking patrons, baby
Llama with a six year
Old girl and Cusquena
Mother – both proudly dressed –
Traditional ‘ttire –
Sat a Peruvian
Lady on the center
Fountain’s edge. She wore her
Night black hair to her chin,
And had skin shades darker
Than most the tall tourists.
She looked about average
For a native’s – not high –
Height. I watched her take left
Hand and brush her direct
Straight hair behind her ear.
She hadn’t noticed me.
A young man approached her –
Kissed her right china cheek while
Momentarily yet
Emphatically in
‘Bracing her. The two strode
Across the cobble stone
Street up steep Cordova.

Mortality

Mortality
By Nabil Abou Baker
5/23/2010

I am reminded of you every time
I look – stare into the mighty mirror.
Life – odd when it reaches that point where you can
Notice the changes of every – damned – day
The stress, pain, hardship, losses, and – wrinkles.
Changes unwantedly manifested,
Ones that take shape on your cold countenance.

Life without Alliteration

Life without Alliteration
By Nabil Abou Baker
3/27/2010

Sober, somber lost in endless slumber.
Swineburnian thunder marks a solemn sylvan site,
Despite the meaningless snakes and stones!
Without her, is life without alliteration.

Red

Red
from Colors
By Me
12/4/2009

For hours, minutes I stood there.
I had hurried out, all alone,
Reluctantly waiting for them.
‘Evitably-in, they must show!

Sobering, it was. Immersed in shades
Of red, the carnivorous cast,
Numbing hue, stentorian tint.
Gone, it’s all gone, they are all gone.

The Masquerade

The Masquerade
11/06/09
By Me

“‘Conceited, who are you supposed to be?’ you say.
Like everyone in the drunken night’s masquerade,
Man with a predictable countenance—hiding
Behind a behemoth frightened forceful façade.
The ‘chaic false facet of the domineering,
‘Ristocratic society of us!” I say.

“Not everyone in this minuscule masquerade
Is a sycophantic cold coward in ‘hiding’.
I must know what obscure and dubious façade
You refer to. One of art and knowledge domineering
The people, the gift of eternity, I say.
You are anti-Gatsbian,” I continued to say

“Its ironic that noble Gatsby was hiding.
Hiding from his ebbing world behind the façade,
Which proves how one can ‘come of the domineering
Society. The woeful one that caused say
Lores and loathed cranes to drown. And I will helm and say
Without this, we are wild without the masquerade.”

“Zelda did so well under the enforced façade!
The one in which Scott ended by domineering
Her mind. Those suppressive anti-wilde acts make it say
Fur for others. Why do you sublimely say
Not of the mighty mimicking drone masquerade,
But where would we be without those who broke hiding?”

“Do they truly breakout or enter a new domineering
Cult. Just a brief jump from what say
A Socratic versus a sophist. Not grey per-say
What happens after they join the new masquerade?
Simply put, the rules of what constitutes hiding
Are different. A new ‘powering sophist façade”—

“Your mechanical thoughts are troubling to say,
Reflective of who you are. My concluding say
In all this: what can constitute this masquerade?
All your friends with violent minds finding hope hiding.
Those wildely out of hiding reveal a façade
To seek justice from the unjust domineering!

I must be on my way, but to say masquerade
Miss Bennet, it torments me, and that hiding façade
Represents only your culture’s domineering say.”

Poem of the Day: 586

586
By Emily Dickinson


My life had stood--a Loaded Gun--
In Corners--till a Day
The Owner passed--identified--
And carried Me away--

And now We roam in Sovereign Woods--
And now We hunt the Doe--
And every time I speak for Him--
The Mountains straight reply--

And do I smile, such cordial light
Upon the Valley glow--
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its pleasure through--

And when at Night--Our good Day done--
I guard My Master's Head--
'Tis better than the Eider-Duck's
Deep Pillow--to have shared--

To foe of His--I'm deadly foe--
None stir the second time--
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye--
Or an emphatic Thumb--

Though I than He--may longer live
He longer must--than I--
For I have but the power to kill,
Without--the power to die--