A Lesson In Drawing

My son places his paint box in front of me
and asks me to draw a bird for him.
Into the color gray I dip the brush
and draw a square with locks and bars.
Astonishment fills his eyes:
"... But this is a prision, Father,
Don't you know, how to draw a bird?"
And I tell him: "Son, forgive me.
I've forgotten the shapes of birds."
***
My son puts the drawing book in front of me
and asks me to draw a wheatstalk.
I hold the pen
and draw a gun.
My son mocks my ignorance,
demanding,
"Don't you know, Father, the difference between a
wheatstalk and a gun?"
I tell him, "Son,
once I used to know the shapes of wheatstalks
the shape of the loaf
the shape of the rose
But in this hardened time
the trees of the forest have joined
the militia men
and the rose wears dull fatigues
In this time of armed wheatstalks
armed birds
armed culture
and armed religion
you can't buy a loaf
without finding a gun inside
you can't pluck a rose in the field
without its raising its thorns in your face
you can't buy a book
that doesn't explode between your fingers."
***
My son sits at the edge of my bed
and asks me to recite a poem,
A tear falls from my eyes onto the pillow.
My son licks it up, astonished, saying:
"But this is a tear, father, not a poem!"
And I tell him:
"When you grow up, my son,
and read the diwan of Arabic poetry
you'll discover that the word and the tear are twins
and the Arabic poem
is no more than a tear wept by writing fingers."
***
My son lays down his pens, his crayon box in
front of me
and asks me to draw a homeland for him.
The brush trembles in my hands
and I sink, weeping.

- Nizar Tawfiq Qabbani

Occupation is a Crime!

You Just Know...

She had chosen the courtyard because it was quiet, everyone had left for the weekend and her thoughts had enough space to dance freely, among the benches and trees without being frightened shitless by the scowling , under breath swearing of discontented members of the corporate world.

It had been weeks since she had heard from him, how one moment could change your life as you knew it forever, had taken her by suprise. For a life that was so mechanical, the sudden emergence of emotion has turned the calm sterile environment into a warzone.

As all the chilches suddenly came crashing back at her out of nowhere like those sly waves when your playing in the ocean and you think you have the rhythm of the waves covered.

The Hallmark writers had been right ...'When you know you just know”.

Fidgeting Feedjit

How to find Mirage A Trois’s blog? Let me count the ways……
(of how some of you got here over the last couple of weeks)

From blogsearch.google.com search for “PORN”

From google.com search for:
1. “Love at cock.com”
2. “Letting my wife sock cock”
3. “Guy arab cock”
4. “Desert cock picks”
5. “Mirage taking two cocks”

Seems like my demonic matrimonial guide spawned a wankathon!

Solace

On the unmarked road
Embarking on a quest to uncover secrets
Hoping to find what was lost
One agonising step after another
Past charred embers - ashes of a life forgotten
Leads to desolate dunes
Where the scorching sun
turns sand to shards of glass
that cripple blistered feet
Here, my bleeding heart finds solace.

Persian Woman

(Source: flickr.com)