POETIC MEMOIRS OF SHADI YACOUB SHIDRAWI

Mirror me! © Shadi Shidrawi 2014 hey... have you given it a thought? hey... have you tried it a little short? hey.. have you ever wondered, if it's you I'm talking to? hey... you over there, i am here not there. hey... you over here i am there now and you are here. who am i? i am you who are you? you are me a reflection of you and me.

As we cheer a year goodbye it is remarkable how we do this and forget all the pain humanity went through, just another year. Or should we just remember those good times that give us hope to welcome the new one? © Shadi Shidrawi 2014

straightforward simplicity thrives without delays stupefied strained discounted dedicated misunderstood the concept of boxing day forgot St. Stephen and saw the event as shop till you drop add flavor to the shop another reaction to thank you for giving we offer all those who participated, a big discount gather ye commodities whilst ye may Herrick translated in green and other colorful notes. yet we... yet we, who created the alphabet who spread the word who sailed the seas before discoverers were born, can't really function unless in dungeons by a group of friendly foes democraticly embalmed outlook of embarrassments we are a feudal farm with centuries left behind. no change is immediate no change is imminent we are what we are shamans designed to deny oh lord help my people... to get a few ... who make this place a pandemic ... to change while chances are lost at every millisecond... and all what we do is nag: who would save the hiring of the thirsty monger at every pause prete...

Christmas Morning ©Shadi Shidrawi sun is out clear blue skies a poet so hungry to catch a rhyme a rhyme, an incantation, an iconoclastic, endeavor to obtain a photograph of Christmas Morning. all the wine evaporated the goodies digested the warmth of the eve absorbed absolutely absorbed a new fresh beginning a dawn for humanity raises the sun of Christmas Morning the three magical Magi brought gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh the elves accompanied Santa on his sleigh with dears and rudolf Christmas vs xmas both come once a year one fills up your heart with joy and hope & the other empties your pocket till you drop but let's not talk about yesterday's let's try to portray this day: Christmas morning waiting for everyone's blessing please share your thoughts in a couple verses to this poem as you feed in all what you've noticed in posts so poetic the surreal and real of this blessed Christmas d...

Brrrrr Bah! blue brisk disk hands freezing new solstice solution in a quilt freed to rhyme i freeze the vine eternally left freezing with blue blue icy prisms. blue  with its magnificence  radiates the chill after the dill from icicles of solstice. aurora with its green bluish aura flies the north folks announcing the beginning  of shortened days longitude of nights  it is freezing we light a tree get your self a blanket blanched by fur and long  animal hair it's solstice  a new child is born  from incandescent flames the world will not be torn Yultide vickings surrounded with vixens round the fire of ice. say hail to the Gauls with potions of might. it's winter  with its wonderlands even hotels made of ice not really very good advice flew his son to the North pole a treat from a Scott his half lawless suit delectable in time spring is far fetched autumn has just passed by it's too chilly out...

Poem ©Shadi Shidrawi A Poem,   i Can't define!  i shout    Oh sweet illusion, of sweet perfection! A poem, Piles of tasks ahead lurking havoc in one's head .........................step forward to unravel What you purposefully left behind! A Poem is A challenge to be met A rose to be sent Down the Rhyme river A Poem takes care of One task after another, tell me why do we bother? Just to meet redemption? Or sink in phases of procrastination? A poem: ........Oh... we love that feeling, a filament of clandestine desire. A Poem: A sweet sense of fulfilled inner state of perfection transforming into lights of an alphabetical prism. A poem........the essense of ultimate resurrection of inner side realities. in verse , and in verse is Universal! a poem, the emotion of relief its decorum! the everlasting effect, its images. the beating sensation of your pounding heart, its rhythm.

Narcissistic Meditation. Mastered and Cheerful Straightforward and Gleeful Established and fully Blemished Astounded not tearful. Who am I, you ask? I am a troubled Introduction A Presumptuous Inuendo Set to unfulfil a task. Sharp and Eloquent Dapper and Resonant Patient and Adamant Survivor and Arrogant people call Me Narcisse love to revel in caprice of My elegant possibilities for the next following anxieties.

Christmas Comes Just Once a Year! © Shadi Shidrawi Ready, steady,  go edit note But how to let it go, Is it because Chronic remorse,  when you listen  "If you have behaved badly, "On no account brood over your wrongdoing. "You say you care Christmas is near  a child is born  a child is born  Is your Christmas the same as mine? Hark the herald angels sing Who took the event  Christmas, Christmas is near  Christmas is near  back to the old drawing board Christmas is near and the heart is kicking post  revel leave an impression  receive one and let it go when voices  around Christmas time echo in the silence  of your head! as all the moralists have agreed,  is a most undesirable sentiment? just around this time of year the voices would sound  like that: then make what amends you can and address yourself to the task of behaving better next time." Rolling in the muck is not  the b...

Transcendent propriety clasps the first abandoned call; tranquil transmission transfers the designated role. If I were you, 'nd you were me, would we be aware of it all? Prevalent questions with their marks (?) arise. With acute aching symptoms increasing All amount to: 'what a surprise! ' And the foil of attention depleting. Trying a gig we tell small fibs And with poetical nuances in groups of resonance we make it happen like the poets  we are . keeping that flow keeping those rhymes and rhythms I am communicating with you Would you keep up with this charm? My picture is hazy I may hide it from you The world  brings us together will we ever depart? or should we question the term 'forever?' One assurance assisting assumptions One call to 'poetic a' Would always keep that assonance  cloaked in alliteration of moods swinging. ©Shadi Shidrawi

An Ode is an Answer a morphology of clandestine awarenesses shakes rooms of unquestionable tasks talks about the living and the location of the dead. the 'others' forlorn for looking for answers. trodding down memory lane forgot ten remembered a 100 the question of the quest remains are we going to oblivion? no no. not a state of mind. actually a mind set of forlorn & missed moments. ravaging scavenging pulling together gnashing by the skin of our teeth we arrive plodding, experiential, yet calm. gregarious and reclusive. what an agility of the mind. distracted by wilderness abbeys of quintessential menaces groping in the darkness of light. to find an answer remains a question to be postulated hypothetically the answer remains an ode to Yacoub

A  selfie  is a  self-portrait  photograph, typically taken with a hand-held  digital camera  or  camera phone . Selfies are often shared on  social networking services  such as  Facebook ,  Instagram , Google +,  or  Twitter . They are usually flattering and made to appear casual. Most selfies are taken with a camera held at arm's length or pointed at a mirror, rather than by using a  self-timer . A Poetry Selfie :) is a self-portrait photograph  typically taken with a hand-held  digital camera  or  camera phone  with poetry embossed as a second layer image.   ;)

Jacket on top. walking with big strides. a bib on his neck. wondering like a child. He has changed events that would have happened during his times. Edited many effects, he clearly was effective Treatment of illnesses, were some of his objectives Who is he then? who is he but you and me meeting with us a thousand times. with hopes and fears and tears of joy the child in us as mighty as the sword the best actor in the world the child in you and me.

an aching heart talking her way through words touching fire getting burnt by flames saying it's fine and the dwelling goes on sweet silhouette with calming effect a charm she burns her fingers with fires of agitation says life goes on Patient by time, but still young avid and keen on details utilizing comfort from one place to another living in utmost composure and tenure in her a riser of a heartache in a heartbeat necessary to every whisper eternally striking with effect decomposing her essence sweet affliction curves at the bends of an aching heart. full of courage fighting men effects of past encouraged restless, lavish, not lonely left to her own devices eerily scared to hurt while you work on everyone those who know how to listen to that ache scared of discovery trying to disguise and succeed to survive.

Copper Hands On the other side of my favorite part, is where you can find out what you think of: the most important aspect ratio of you. If you are not the intended recipient of this day in the future of our lives, and the other side of humanity, could it be that you have lived during the same time we did? Confucius must have pleased his mind with questions like that. The "faylasouf" in Lebanese or the philosopher in all flourishing languages . flourishing the same best first a new serving hybrid was born English from the lands of Angles Saxons and Jutes in the land of Kent. from French got it's sophistication, from latin it's adoration admirable how this language controls businesses, economies policies made foreign, technology technical bridges. allows and allows all furnishes them with lavish service oh English Oh English Shakespeare and Johnson must have had their minds on an outcome like that. The "kottab" in...

Negative times lying through your look-a-likes. simply born or weeping deep inside. the spirit of the hearts watching out... watching out... fading moments are slowly going fast. a ray of light shines from there the silence of those waiting. Negative times are those times that work you out. Even the words in your mouth are nothing but vowels and consonants, maybe just vowels, just soft sounds. The soul inside you is the last foreign language you are learning. and the editor remembers that seeing the positive is justified to be close by close by nearer to the end when.. shedrawi.blogspot.com when the negative begins. when the positive subsides when all subsidiary sunless skies collide collisions widen really sunken into fathomed spaces spaced outside the dimensions of times.

On the roads traffic pirates pirated piranhas on the roadside mornings and the other side amidst the hand of day a traffic of mind streaming screaming at a jam on the roadside one chooses makes one a choser chosen check checking change your life change your mind. definitely not a loser. attract wealths you too can once a choser never loose a chance chant an incantation revel in those lyrics of traffic and mind streaming forgetfulness becomes awareness and you too can once a chooser nevermore change a chance revel in those lyrics ballads and incantations, from Ireland through China T'ai chi to Celtic centric realms. ?... If you so not desire negative times? design your desired desires once a free soul nevermore loose a chance

May be ...May be. Subjugated to May be! Complaints received Uterrances relieved Yet the answer Remains hazy. Could be... Could be Subdued by a could... Ideas born Dreams torn still the speculation strikes glossy. Trafalgar Square Bab Idriss Lahore Ideas of risk at loosing one's identity theft from disclosure a difference of differences in between be tweeting twice as twenty as two cents vents per centuries of the day best before behold a nest behind the border a genetic construct beast unleashed unbeatable temporarily, unbelievable,  unbelievers! may be may be could be could be shall be shall be deemed and seen sewn of torn the cry awares the crowd toppling off the crowned gently moving all the gentry. The first only best be systematic and busy bustle the hiss and turn around your history. shedrawi.blogspot.com

Form a tree and hang a swing with silver linings grasp the breeze and swing like a child does edit your writing and edit and edit crave for awareness and never cease to. we are what we are don't say we are unable to. Form a tree and hang a swing with glittering lightening breathe the storm and fly over the black clouds torrential rain under your courage subsides we are what we do don't say we are not aware, too. form a tree and hang a dreamy swing revel in its nostalgia and innocense don't let the new order take over don't say we are able, but can't do. counting, drifting, hanging, musing laughing that's what we do best that's what we expected when we took those first steps down to that room of hypnotic nostalgia. the new order ordains our rumors fill up the gaps don't say we are too far from achieving chances taken and not forgotten. this isn't what it seems like you have an understanding of the how and when the synergis...

June 20, 2007 at 7:59am      Why is it when we yield to a desired process, we deny the challenge that comes with it! As per se, relentless search for a hidden shelled like protection. Frustration reaches its best when this action is not consumed to the fullest... as two flames burn more to quench the thirst of feeding fire on fire. Then the mind adds logic to it and time, incandescent in nature, treats the pain that resides within!      Frantically groping in the middle of dark, I feel the essence of perfume flying in particles across the room of my thought. I grasp a particle of you and I smell it until it ends and then it restarts...why...why! The neutralizing effect doesn't work...that one and only mentioned sublime. The smell turns to visual aspects that pound the mind and the groping in the light of memory adds to the grandeur of the moment. Steadily I grope and steadfastly I hold...unconsumed desire.. for the love of God!!!   ...

May 3, 2011 at 10:07pm · I stand on mountain peaks Calling out the stout Rendering sorrows into might; Calmness into naught! Grasping some jurisprudence My sweat drops the petty cash. Reviving ultimatum Denying citations I grope the wilderness To find But a glimmer Of a day Reflecting another to come. A souvenir I’ve just created, And to write I have never ceased! Lend me your auditory passion, And revel in the imagery I weave!

Sometimes. June 21, 2007 at 1:48am · Sometimes life takes turns on life. Scratching hope on the walls of unknown futures. Skipping the fear of madness and illogic. Stars go by and fall from above. Skies bow down with respect to decisions made. Strife and toll wither to sweet perfection. Strides, greater than that of a giant,are taken over miles. Strutting over a million clouds. Satisfied with a decision taken on one night. Safer in a fragrant scenario of the mind. Stumbling maybe but steadfastness brings the past. So let's be happy with this mind!! Suddenly i wan to calmness. Softly caressed to hold the moment. Sometimes I seem to shadow the sand. Sans blague...we only live once. Shallowness is not that deep but the deep is not! Sending all five lights of prisms. Steadily flying faster than light!

REFINED RAMPANT RUSTICITY, CRAVES ON A CREDULOUS CALL. Torrent turbid tranquility, Settles the sensation of the soil. Abundant avid aridity, Describes the destined design . I walked the streets of Beirut today... Then I imagined... Is the unbending traveler that credulously struggles to spread havoc; Wherein I cannot uproot the stench of foulness within the gravitating surmise. A wrapped-up gift explodes and everything is thrown behind. And when the gravel subsides, The righteousness did to glitter sounds of enemies to hide. Was this the Beirut I know? Was this not a scary vision of the mind...? Never! the voice refused... Forever the dream of life survives.