1 february 2012

A week of A Man from Our Time

Monday: 
He sharpens  his dream 
By the hone of the  illusion, 
Under his arm 
He put roses  
And a bit of of life's basils 
Then goes to his work. 
-------- 
Tuesday: 
He says to the beloved: 
Tomorrow, when  the dreams tree  leaves
On our stature,
And the light leapt smiling 
In Our eyeballs 
Humbly will come the sea 
And give  us its waves. 
-------- 
Wednesday: 
From the breast of the clouds he suckles
Five songs, 
And by the stone 
He slaughters the weathercock. 
-------- 
Thursday: 
He irrigates his memoirs 
With the water of trouble,
 In the evening 
He expectes to be kidnapped. 
-------- 
Friday: 
When he comes to the cafe 
He drinks from his cup
 A quantity of eulogies 
About the  members of his tribe,
And when he goes out  
He buries his misgivings in his pockets. 
-------- 
Saturday: 
He goes to  the city bar 
And behind him he pulls 
The chariot of the grief, 
Instills in the field of his body 
Seedlings of the wine 
To make himself melted. 
-------- 
Sunday: 
His feet take him  
Where the nightmares of the road are,
His eyes lurk among the passers-by.


number of comments: 8 | rating: 14 |  more 

Mustapha Maaroufi,  

thnx budleja.

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Naykd Poet,  

vivid and deeply metaphoric..

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kipruto muthemba,  

And what a sunday!!: "Good stuff Mustapha"

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Mustapha Maaroufi,  

Thank you very much ,Kipruto

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Mustapha Maaroufi,  

You are a tasteful, thank you for your presence here ،Naykd.

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Cheval (Faber),  

I found it deeply rooted in one's expiriece. As I continue this thought, it not a common thing in the West to say both lirically and existentially, in other words: true. In this poem, there is something as our Polish noblist called "force of a word". Actually, it comes from spotainity of the expirienceing of world and one's place in it. In Europe, there is not so many poems like this, that brings togheter architecture and though, as I can say this in that matter. However, your point of view, as you illustrated in this poem, is something worth of care. Because thought, spirit, law and even God himself is vulnerable, this is lesson I found in my nihilistic West.

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Mustapha Maaroufi,  

Thank you very much for this analytical comment, and I was amazed when you said:( In Europe, there is not so many poems like this). My sincere greetings to you,Fabrycy.

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