By Michel Hajji-Georgiou
Saint-Joseph University
Political Science- 1st year- 98/99


I went to the old house
Down the railroad
As I entered
And climbed the stairs
I heard a distant voice
It broke the beauty of darkness

It said: ď Well, never mind
We will put it all back together
Sometimes - later - perhaps
Just leave it there - on the floor ď
Then it faded and sorrow came
And filled my heart with sweet dreams
That made me throw up

I got closer to the mess
And I fell in the abyss of my insane mind
When I looked back, I saw
My body had joined my soul
In a spiral of monstrosity
It was torn into little piecesÖ

                                                                             Beirut, 7/08/97

 Soul Check

Have you ever noticed
Incomprehension always came
With the wilderness of disappointment
If not, then I wonder
How much time are we left
As we deeply sink into
Our elegant and fashionable madness

Come on, wake up and run
Until it takes you down
And swallows your knowledge
Emotions thrown away
With the garbage of the old cave

Have you seen rust replace love
Within the happiness of the old cold couple
And dawn slowly be forgotten
In the mind of the turtle beach

Have you ever felt non - sense
Bite your heart that day as you were
Simply dying from the eternal lassitude
Of simple existence

And I guess you just call it life
Donít you?

Because I call it ACTING

                                                                             Beirut, 7/08/97


You donít have to remind me
How a lousy poet I am
Itís written everywhere
On every face, every smile
Every tear, every wall
Every fuckiní icon
On each goddam church
I just have learned my lesson well

I know that I am to be left alone
Because some mighty greater god
Has it scratched on a piece of paper

It is true you have never loved me
From the end until the beginning, over and over
It is obvious you never even felt for me
So why donít you finish over what you started

Is it so hard to say
That I am not much but a wreckage
Sacrificed on the altar of greed
And dying hopeless lust of you

If I take the plane now
For a one special flight
And get high to abort the need
I just have to see your face
Will there be less babies dead tomorrow
Out hereÖ
 Mental Illness

If you think youíve reached the edge
Iím afraid to tell you it is never over
Actually, it hasnít even started yet

Youíre lying there, eyes open
And it keeps coming and going
In the bridges of your head
You donít know what it is
You even ignore how to call it

You just sense itís growing fast
Fast enough to eat your brain
Your heart, your head
And it is giving birth
To a so - called ď friend Ē
Who cuts your heart
With a razor so thin and sharp
You could stuck it deep into your tongue
To lose any chance of communication

Had you heard Death
As it knocked on your door
The minute after
 Lost Call

I thought you had enough of those pills
L.S.D, Valium, Anti - acids and Lexotamil
Beautiful names that my brain keeps forgetting
Over and over as it sinks slowly into insanity

I really had the feeling you were through
With all the happiness of our depressive age
As our pain sounds strangely as everything
We have ever known before

I hate to tell you this - but I see myself
On the mountain of your sorrow -
Desperately calling for an intense look
To travel with in the labyrinths of your eyes
In the darkness of your endless mind

I hate to tell you that we canít really meet
Until you really open your eyes on
This aesthetic feeling of hate
We carry deep into ourselves

I hate to tell you Iím dying
As much as you are
Reaching for some doors that remain strangely
Eternally locked on our faces

Do I have to show you that the stars blow away
Before they shine eternally
Under the coolness of the naught
Then I have to tear my eyes apart

If this is the only reason why I was brought into nightmares
For your eyes to drown and for your smile
To forget that there is a beauty in all monstrosity
Then I must inherit all the suffering you stand for
And vanish for ever with the sighs of the drunken
 To Jim Morrison

Like a lizard in the shadow
I silently walked forward
And there I found the master
All dressed in black
He was smiling
As he spoke to my eyes
He said: ď James Douglas Morrison
1943 - 1971.Ē
And then I saw the disciples
Gathered round the priest
It was new skin for the old ceremony

Morrison, crossroads of a worldwide generation
Buried like some kind of unknown soldier
And laughing deep inside the remains of his grave

ď No one here gets out alive ď
                                                                        Paris, 18/8/97


I think I might better forget
The fugitive smile that ran away
Within your face - towards me
On that calm crazy day

I just remember the sorrow of your look
As I stood there - quiet and still
Selfish and blinded by a silent strong adoration
I can still recall you were in deeper pain

I guess youíd got a stiff neck
But the nostalgic dilemma came
From some other sacred place of your body
As we both surrendered to this mystic sadness

I suffered long that day - in the midst of the crowd
I was deaf and stupid - I think I felt for you
I mean I still do - but itís desperately hopeless
Since I am inhabited by the icon of you

But I must go - to my land of scorn
Where fate submit me to the same kind of people
Each and every second of my existence
And so do you - travelling evanescent ladyÖ

The bridges that separate us are many
And Iím not sure you want to overcome (them)
Iím not sure you need to know me better
Like two intimate strangers who meet for the same first time

I feel the rain will wash the dust out of me
At least, my invocations have began
Far away, so close - it grows dangerous and heavy
Over the helplessness for what I may long forÖ

                                                                             Paris, 21/8/97


Itís strange you always have
To go so far away from all kind
Of so called ď civilisationĒ-
Crazy people - I meant -
To find that youíre not lonely anymore

The substance your spirit needs
To overthrown this killing passivity inside out of you
Is calm - dead calm - the silence of quiet understanding
The void creates complicity with the few people
You actually feel like meeting and embracing
For the first, last and always ever ending day of existence

There is no difference between the simple
And the complicated
When in the terms of  ďexistenceĒ
Theyíre just melted, drowned
Somewhere - in the tears of some
Poor child - crying for having been brought to lifeÖ

                                                                   Poilly - Sur - Serein, 23/8/97

 Confide inÖ

Time passes slowly in the mind
Of the cold stones in the old house
Once young, lamented, lost in fragility
It seems stronger as it goes older and wiser

I smell pity for myself somewhere
Between body and soul - I donít recall
Such a feeling before without any pride
But it is dying - coughing with the ashes
Of our old well - known sensations

Have you ever felt it, around the corner
The powerful melancholic sensation of liberty
Freedom of acting, speaking, lying - dying
Freedom of love to the point of no return
Freedom to search yourself in the burden
The sufferers carry - on their bloody shoulders

No, it seems this is too much for you
Youíre far above this, my companion, my cheater
Iíd just forgotten that you were
In complete incompatibility with sensitivity

                                                                          Poilly - Sur - Serein, 23/8/97

 The Quest/The Answers

Prayers, healers, fortune tellers and lovers
Happened to be worthless
So youíre always working to find
Some sort of serenity to refill your heart
Youíve been running on empty
For quiet a long time now

I know that itís worth living for
When comes the greater unconscious need
To find some way out of this
Mess youíve been protecting
And feeding, waiting for some
New event to cheer up the catatonia
And wash away all the silent rages
Stored in your acid heart

Donít you know that youíve come
All the distances - that youíve been broken
To find the greater treasure
Hidden deep inside of you:
Forget your dreams - your spleen, ideals
And other funny names you like to find
To name your pathetic boring life
You have found the naught
And it was meant to happen
The only reliable point around you

You still have a thing to achieve:
Start to learn how to deal with itÖ

                                                                  Poilly - Sur - Serein, 23/8/97


Iím tired of those men
Always claiming their sanity
All around the face of the earth
Denying their essential part of madness
That comes along with birth
Living in a souvenir they play
To forget and remember

Well, hey, Iím not proud of my madness
Itís just part of me, of my character
Of a previous exciting life
Fading slowly in my dying mind

The asylum is opened to everyone
Who wishes to register
Come on and visit us
We need some money
And were getting lonely out hereÖ

Forget it - you can still dream
That it happens some day
For I have my musicÖ

It may be cheaper than your ďwhore clubĒ
But at least itís carefully marked inside of
                                                                    Paris, 25/8/97


I was caught into the storm
And it almost got me
I have to repeat it again
Until you listen carefully
Didnít you hear me say
It almost killed me

I guess that you are to go easy on me
Coís I have suffered before
And it was never easy
Even when I smiled it was

Please donít say you understand
Just donít say any cool world
Like youíre sorry for me - words are helpless
Speak if you want to - but just to say
You care
                                                               Paris, 26/8/97


I have been left alone
I have been banished out of hope
I have been exiled with my suffering

I have met this selfish side of me
Who carries word as a white flag
To surrender to rage and frustration
And the great incomprehension
That comes with

I have been abandoned to flames
And have been burnt by eyes
I have been cut by smiles
And broken by the distant silence
You propose to share with me
More often than I really remember

I have slept with horny angels
To feel the fruit of loneliness
And torn away the ones who asked
But you donít care much for anyone
Like me - Iím just one more stranger
Passing by on the highway of your lifeÖ

                                                                       Paris, 26/8/97

 Fading Memory

You say youíve met yourself
And seen the true face of you
Through meetings and embraces
And the coming of the separations
For an unknown long time
Thatís when starts the suffering
And goes the envy of normality

It seems helpless to recall
Faces in your daily memory
Especially when happiness enters
Your soul through a person
You know youíll be missing a lot

And then - what is left is nothing
But the urge to write down
The words that will keep her face aliveÖ

                                                                          Paris, 30/8/97

 Until MaybeÖ

Iíve been afraid, all this time
To chain myself to those faces
Promises of a never seen tomorrow

Iíve been looking for
A soul to speak to
In this wild tide of passers by

Iíve been forced to run away
From all these hands that were
Opened - I canít explain

Iíve searched and searched
For answers far beyond myself
Iím sick of waiting

I thought I saw the so - called ďtruthĒ
Just a mirage in the desert
Of my lack of faith

Now itís you I long for
Princess of Snow, Lady of Ice
You I cannot erase

From the gallery of portraits
Where my mind has locked up
The loneliness that burst into my soulÖ

Page Created on April 20th,1999
Last updated on April 20th,1999
   Copyright (C) 1998/1999 by Nada AbiSamra.

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