Tag: sonnet

Summer Night in the Park

The afternoon is starting to wind down
As the sun gets reflected in the pond,
Dancing off, its sparkles will never drown
Until it sets, breaking its final bond.
I find a park bench somewhere in the shade
Where I open up the weight of a story,
Losing myself in the action that’s played,
Consuming its theme in all its glory.
Couples holding hands enjoy their own tale,
Believing the curtain will never close.
I hope that the comedy will prevail
Just as the breeze over the still pond blows.
You could not ask for a more perfect night,
The ones filled with a summer-like delight.

That One Stop on the Way Back to the Hotel

I know we are off the beaten path,
But we make sure the busses come here,
For we are the forgotten who do not hath
In the sacred place the world holds so dear.
Our hope is to tap into your pity,
So you might part with a single dinar
That will help with the growth of our city
From the weight of recent history’s scar.
You get to walk away with a trinket
That will remind you of your vacation,
And with payment there is food I will get
That will cure my family’s starvation.
Do not look at my excessive stomach;
My living is finding the one to take.

Responsibility on Hold

Life is busy on top of the mountain
As we take care of work and family.
I can not take in the sights I have seen
Because my duties do not make me free.
But I will travel down that windy road
That will remove me from my place up high,
Then I can discard this burdensome load
That me to this rocky top, it does tie.
I will make my way down below the sea
Where the sun peeks out underneath the clouds.
There I’ll find a different way to be
That releases me from the hectic crowds.
It’s a day of restful relaxation
When we take the Labor Day vacation.

The Bedouin Lament

We have always known how to tame this land
Though few can handle its brutality.
We share its beauty with a gracious hand,
But understand of its fragility.
On our camels, We’ll guide you through its sand
To marvel at its protruding mountains,
And at night, what you witness is so grand,
The canvas of sky, the light of star stains.
There are those who would like to see us banned
For they have found value with where we live.
For our old lifestyle, we must take a stand,
And we can save what they want us to give.
History tells us that we will not win,
Marking the passing of the Bedouin.

The Ride Home at Night

As the sun tilts over the sandy dunes
Making its final exit for the night,
I listen to how the blowing wind croons
It lamentation of the fading light.
Two camels carry a family home,
Guided by their Bedouin caretaker.
The sunlight silhouettes the way they roam,
Giving the dying light to their maker.
It’s a simple picture of black and white
Only seen in the world on a corner,
And though we can connect with their respite,
We like to claim that they are foreigners.
Can we not find ourselves in this landscape,
Thinking it too Oriental to escape?

The Crusaders’ Castle

We will take the defensive position
By building our fortress on the cliff face.
From up here, we’ll see any invasion
Long before they can get close to this place.
It will give us time to boil our grease,
And get each soldier to notch an arrow
That they can aim through the castle wall’s crease.
Our goal is to land the decisive blow
In this holy war we’re destined to win.
It has been foretold within the pages
Of our sacred text, to kill each pagan
Who won’t surrender to this fight’s wages.
It is the way the divinity planned,
Defending out spot on their stolen land.

Karaoke in Times of War

Let us join all our voices together,
So they can hear it all over old town.
It does not make our singing much better,
But I would like to see them shoot us down,
For this is the place, and the right moment
For us to declare, “This is our kingdom!”
After our youthful energy in spent,
We will worry about the rest to come:

The night sky brightly burning with rockets,
Making explosions with their collisions,
Deadly shrapnel that their union begets,
Marking the hated countries’ derision.

But why should I bother way over here,
Singing karaoke without a care.

Life on the Shoulder

I know the Winter winds still like to blow,
Keeping folks from walking the city streets,
Yet the time has arrived for it to go,
So we can emerge from our safe retreats.
I stand looking out the frosted window
At the empty chairs at the restaurants,
As the servers patiently wait below
For the locals to return to their haunts.
Only the icy chill goes to and fro,
Giving the advertisements their own dance.
Nobody’s there to watch their tempting show,
Giving the day’s market a fighting chance.
Tomorrow the sun will peak through the clouds
Building up the rise of summertime crowds.

Airport Checkpoint

I know that security can be tight,
And you are trying to protect the land.
Don’t fret about me putting up a fight,
But I think this is getting out of hand.
You may not know of this brand called SweeTarts,
But that does not mean they are illegal.
You can find similar kinds in these parts;
It is not something worthy to smuggle.
Maybe, I should not have opened the box,
For it makes it a little suspicious,
But should I look down the sight of your glocks
Because the pills mixed in are malicious.
I thought that the plan would be worth a shot,
And I never thought that I would get caught.

Quick Trip Home

It was only yesterday I touched down
To a room full of family and hugs.
I could discourage the traveling frown
By leaning into where my heartstring tugs.
But responsibility tells its tale,
Reminding me that this has to be brief.
I am given enough time to exhale
To enjoy this short moment of relief.
I have to go and get my bag repacked
Because there is a flight calling my name.
My job could threaten me by being sacked;
I’ll continue to play its silly game.
I hope you are happy that I have been,
But this trip has been there and back again.