Rimes

A child

Sighing winds
Yawning sun
Flapping wings
Awaiting fun
A child running
After a butterfly
His cries rising
High in the sky
Green meadows
Swarming with bees
Pasturing cows
Mourning doves
Near old ladies
Remembering loves
That became stories
And the mad child
After his fairies
Still running wild


A new world

I knew nothing about love,
even the mere thing people prove
when they are feeling in love.
Finally I dare to say:
I am in love!
All my heart I will give away
just for love.
I can see a new world now,
full of roses.
Lately I have wondered how
to make you a thousand posies
so as to get you round
one of these days.
No more shifting your ground;
old unbearable ways.
I love you just as you are;
you have no need to change.
Only of you have I thought so far
ready at any time to engage.



That beach

That beach where we used to play
Is now the grave of our memories.
By every whisper I wanted to say:
You are the queen of all the fairies.
I remember you wearing white;
It was a wonderful summer day.
Suddenly, you came into my sight
like a lightning or a ray.
I still remember as if it were today.
That was my early adolescence
But the end of your innocence,
As you were already major in May.
It might be foolish of me to say :
I envied your little dog that day
While you were petting him your way.
Sometimes I come back to that place
looking forward to a nice moment.
Having only the wind to embrace,
In spite of me I keep silent.



The past

Thinking of the past,
Time having gone fast,
Nothing left but memories,
Old and gloomy stories,
Remainders of an innocent age,
Feelings of foolish rage.
It was to end so soon
like the beauty of a full moon.
Youth is a sweet dream
that becomes a far gleam
when one leaves it behind at last
and beauty belongs to the past.




True love

Most lovers
May go astray,
Lose their desires
Or give way;
But you and me,
Refreshed by dew
By night or day.
Just me and you,
Two real lovers.
No need to lie.
If one suffers
the other may die.
Refreshed by tears,
unlike the others
-with the same fears-
We are true lovers.



Victim
In loving memory of M.A (1989/1997)

He was only eight years old.
I used to expect his arrival every summer.
After his sudden death I feel a cold
Deep in my heart, a kind of fever.
I used to love him like my finger.
He was my dearest cousin.
When alone, I sometimes wonder
why he left all of a sudden.
He was nothing but a child of eight
when he fell, victim of an accident.
It was an unexpected fate,
A loss I still lament.



Dog's life

A child and a dog,
Both lost in the smog,
Sharing almost everything,
Bed, meal and ceiling,
Wandering in the night
Out of people's sight
To fall asleep anywhere,
With no cover but their hair.
A dog and a child, together,
Live, survive and suffer
Under the cold of winter.
But people seem colder
When seeing both creatures
That show strange features,
They go on walking
As if it were nothing.



Young and blind

Young and blind,
poor but kind,
he walks against the wind.
But a stick he has no friend.
In the middle of the street,
rain up to his feet.
Cars run and splash his face.
What an incredible mad race!
Was it a man or a statue?
Who cared, poor boy, about you?




Hope
(Dedicated with love to all the refugees all over the world)

Looking desperately at the sky
not, at all, aiming high,
an Afghan refugee
wonders where to flee.
A child of not more than five
obliged to keep hope alive
in the face of so many dangers:
mines, missiles, hunger and vultures.
O lost son! I am so sorry
I could not calm your worry.





A poet
(Dedicated to all sincere poets)

Looking down at the sheet of paper,
Thinking of words to write,
and selecting every letter
To stay up all night.
Born to be a poet
Given to his art,
One tries to be perfect
Disclosing one's heart
To all the lovely folks
Who love one's works.
As a poet one spares no effort
to afford them comfort
by calming their pains
Thanks to one's wisdom
So that each gains
the land of freedom.



Angel-eyes

She has an angle eyes.
She is from paradise.
Finding her so sweet,
All men are at her feet.
Sweet dream,
Send a gleam.
Her inviting look,
Like any hook,
Calls its pray
To prove pleasures,
Unaware of dangers.
I need wings to fly;
She is high in the sky.
Oh, please Angle-eyes:
Let me in your paradise.



Martyr

She had just given birth
To a nice child
She cried for all she was worth
Then she died
She had always dreamt
Of becoming a mother
Never had she felt
Like living forever
But for the sake of her lover
And the child they would have together




Wooden hearts

He lies in the middle of the road;
His wounds bleeding.
People around
Just keep watching
with wooden hearts.
Down, the curtains coming.
This is the end of a tragedy.
He has just played his last cards
to face such an awful destiny.
Neither the wounds give up bleeding,
Nor people give up watching.


Lies

With their snaky neckties
they pose before the cameras
to bestow upon us with lies,
promising prosperous eras.
Even a child of less than ten
could immediately realize
the nasty trick and, then,
lose faith. Although, wise,
politicians pretend to be,
the result, at last, belies
what they promised yesterday.


Game
He was a child with every right to play.
As usual, he was so glad that day
When the sky began raining with fire
He was but a child with a huge desire
To play with children of his age,
Unaware of hatred, revenge and rage.
Another innocent among so many others,
Killed, mutilated or left without fathers.
The coward behind the handle is decorated
In a solemn act with all vampires invited
To celebrate the murder of innocent people
In a nasty, unfair and unequal battle.


Mohamed Failali

Copyright ©2005 Mohamed Failali