Missing you...

Missing you…


I feel a certain emptiness enveloping me, a creepy crawly from childhood days. A void left open like some gaping wound so blackened that maggots have already left. I feel an emptiness overwhelming me.

The breeze outside beckons to lovers from all around, welcoming a warm embrace, it touches my hair, lifting its swirls, reminding me of how it may feel and then drops the limp strands of hair to other limbs of green.

I look out into the twilight as things become clearer, tiredness takes its toll on me and from afar I hear the voice of lateness call upon me murmuring into my ears the drumming of time.

It is a demise that I have come to miss my vortex, m black hole of emotions, I miss it, for at the end it is still an emotion. I want to feel, perhaps I have forgotten how? How do I feel?

There is no coldness even, for even that is a feeling. How shall I cry for help? To whom?


"No man is an Iland, intire of itselfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Manor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee."

(MEDITATION XVII., Devotions upon Emergent Occasions by John Donne)

Sweet Nuthin's an' a Lil' Sumthin'

I Want a Little Sugar in my Bowl
sung by Nina Simone

I want a little sugar
in my bowl
I want a little sweetness
down in my soul
I could stand some lovin'Oh so bad
Feel so lonely and I feel so sad
I want a little steam
on my clothes
Maybe I could fix things up
so they'll go
Whatsa matter Daddy
Come on, save my soul
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
I ain't foolin'Drop a little sugar in my bowl
Well I want a little sugar
in my bowl
Well I want a little sweetness down in my soul
You been acting strangely
I've been told
Move me Daddy
I want some sugar in my bowl
I want a little steam on my clothes
Maybe I can fix things up so they'll go
Whatsa matter Daddy
Come on save my soul
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
I ain't foolin'Drop some sugar- yeah- in my bowl.


I miss the magic and the mystery, I miss the feel of a whisper and a breath, I miss the elusiveness of being a woman, I miss the fingers through my hair.

A Phantasmagoria

circa 18-08-04

As I drove to work this morning I had to think of what I want to write, how shall I write it and to whom shall I write. I wanted to write about what I thought and how I thought it and I realized that I felt like a myriad of sentiments and feelings, a multitude of thoughts taking form and as bubbles disappearing. I see the connection with many a thing, with many a peson.

What does it mean? Surreal? From the French ‘surréalisme’ Sur meaning above Realisme Meaning realism which goes back to latin from reality

From www.Dictionary.com :

Surreal
adj 1: characterized by fantastic imagery and incongruous juxtapositions; "a great concourse of phantasmagoric shadows"--J.C.Powys; "the incongruous imagery in surreal art and literature" [syn: phantasmagoric, phantasmagorical, surrealistic] 2: resembling a dream; "night invested the lake with a dreamlike quality"; "as irrational and surreal as a dream" [syn: dreamlike]


I like to think of it differently, I tend to feel it is not so far beyond reality more like a state of being just hovering above reality; it’s the reality that makes you think twice, you know when you look at something that seems regular yet deceives you because it is so much more than irregular.

Something closer to trompe l’oeil yet tips over its edge….

Yes, that’s what I want to write about and feel and see. Within this poetry of people called life.

Dubai International Film Festival

it got to a point where I became non-chalant by the amount of pictures being taken of me... So thats the life of a star, a picture is no more than a pause in the machinations of life, it no longer becomes that element of capturing a special moment.

Except for when it's with people who mean something to you. Like the directors & film makers I met; Walid Al Awadhi & Daoud Hussein from Q8, Bassam Al Thawadi, from Bahrain and John Holt from the states who apparently does 'films for the History channel' so he says, so I tease him.

We had a blast together, Walid has done a documentary of Iraq, that he will want to show at next ears film fest, I saw the trailers and they were tantalising!

"... to thine own self be true .."

What can I say, life goes on and we drift alongside it grasping on to withering pieces that will keep us afloat. Life goes on and at times you're in a river and at other times you're in murky waters. My mind, at this phase is passing through the latter, my confusion in a lot of things is intense. Everything is fragile around me, nothing seems solid & secure except that there is God and we will all eventually die.

Dark. Yes it's dark in my mind at this moment in time, darker than deep, deeper than nothingness. I am not depressed, lest this sound like that. I am also not deliriously happy. I am also not content with this feeling... It seems that I am simply NOT at the moment. As I struggle to be positive to all those around me, it is extremely difficult to be me to myself. This is soon to sound as a very egotisitical trip into the mind but I may need it.

"This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man." - William Shakespeare

Margaret Hassan

they have killed her, whom ever they may be. they, and I use small letters, do not deserve any acknowledgement in the most demeaning sense.

There is much written about her, and there will be more. Uncle Tahseen just wants her back, at least to get the burial that any human being deserves. Let alone a woman who spent most of her life serving humanity.

I just called Uncle Muthana, Uncle Tahseen's brother, in a ridiculous attempt to offer condolences to the family and to commiserate with them for their loss.

I should extend my condolences to all the Iraqi people and others that she's helped in her lifetime; they have lost their guardian angel.

She lived a life that most people only think of attempting, a life of giving. She died a good death, she died giving. That in itself is a nice slap & spit on the face of all those kidnappers that are just creating turmoil and devastating Iraq. She has died because she was doing good. That is DEFINITELY more than they could ever dream of attempting.

May God Almighty bless her in her final resting place many folds as much as she has helped others.

May the same merciful God, The Mighty Allah of the ninety nine names, and by his Greatest name, strike with all his infinite power & might, to the deepest of abysses of worldly and nether hell ALL those who have a hand in killing ANY innocents intentionally anywhere in the world, and those who intentionally want to harm Iraq, its development and path to peace.

AMEN.

Time

How long is too long? It’s been that long since I’ve last written.

Besides the ‘longing’ where did time go to?

‘As time goes by’ I think of my life, of what I’ve learnt or seemed to have wanted to learn and yet I have those scars that prove the experience; time heals all wounds, but it has no cosmetic surgery magic wand to remove all those scars deep inside of a soul.

It’s about time to let go and to embrace, to look at the glory of life as well as its misery and to mostly appreciate being alive to experience both.