Grace

Wasted hours mincing words like a svelte Gemini linguist

intravenously pumped full of Venti lattes

Drowning in self-pity about hopeless sensitivity

Always morning the feeling of being misunderstood

Living in a world of metal games that shape shift into a maze with no exit

Today, redeemed by Your grace

I embrace love that extends beyond personal desire and suffering

I see beyond the words and actions that mask our unconscious internal worlds

And surrender to Your peace and this perfect world

I blindly pursued as an abandoned child crying for her father's return

The friend

Whence may I find such friends

who feel without words

who see without being shown

the whole of who we are

despite our ignorance and naiveté

Those who redirect us towards redemption

 With the profundity of their presence

I wonder where you might be found

And if you mourn my absence as I do yours

Tell me, how does one embrace the loneliness

that comes with refined insight and sensitivity?

Tamer's Home

It shows in your face                                        

Wheat colored skin, Hazel-green                     

Almond shaped eyes adorned with                   

Curled lashes who flirt without              

Your consent                                                   

Reminiscent of Ramesses’                                

statue who smiled at your                                 

loyalty to your homeland                                  

her history and treasures                                  

His mummified body you                                  

sought to protect from flashes               

of ignorant tourists who                                    

asked if you were a Pharaoh                            

I am seduced by King Tut’s                             

gold, turquoise, coral casket                             

as you try to get us out                         

of Nitocrises                                                    

Soft rose colored African                                 

lips caress mine in the grand                             

Khofo Pyramid, dusted                        

in ancient sands and timeless                            

dreams of loving eternally                                 

Strong jaw line, black sandpaper                      

shadow suits you well, As does            

Modest conservatism,                                      

Time-honored humility,                        

and your mature sandalwood                           

Scented Cartier cologne                                   

Your face reveals a longing                              

for an old and familiar                          

country, where everyday                                  

the city cries out that God                                

is great as the world bows in                            

peaceful surrender. Where there                       

is always time for prayer, tea                            

friends and family                                             

Centuries removed from my                             

beloved but shamelessly                                   

superficial Southern California              

In Egypt, time is plentiful                                  

There is space for reflection                             

the quiet voice of the soul         

Tamer's home (cont.)

We enjoy fatta, tea, okra, and omm ali

Fateera, ishta, and ghee                                     

In the outdoor café at                                         

Night we sip tea, watch people                          

smoke hookah, and surrender                           

to the singer’s angelic                             

voice making love with the oud             

Coffin-sized elevators                          

in a one star hotel, one                         

with a smoking escort and                                

chair and the other playing                                

the call to prayer                                              

Annoying guides and bumpy                             

Horseback rides dancing around the                 

Pyramids, followed by                         

a violent bidet and the                          

stench of wet horse as I play dress                   

up in Khan El-Khalili’s                         

Egyptian dance finery                                       

Sufi skirts spinning like rainbow                        

Tops enchanted by drumming                           

Nubians in the ancient mosque             

Hunting down Egyptian stars                            

in five-star Samiramees                                    

We get high on infectious                                 

pop and seduced by Dina’s                              

shimmies, then finally we                                  

Collapse in our beloved                                   

one-star Nitocrises                                          

Bright as the African sun                                  

Your love and affection for                               

Egypt finally clear to me                                   

It is her who I now see                         

In your smile, your eyes and your                     

tenderest of memories              

The Promise of Fantasy

You promised me quixotic love

While I consumed your words with insatiable hunger

And began drawing up blueprints of ineffable devotion and affection

You pledged not to betray or abandon me,

And vowed to shield me from further disloyalty and heartache because, according to you,

I had already "suffered too much"

You gave me late nights on your balcony

Confessing the perpetual mourning and idealization of our fathers

Cooing and caressing me as I recounted my incremental disillusionment with love

You gave me warm summer evenings within the red walls of the medina

You gave me strolls past the snake charmers, dancers, and acrobats

in the Plaza Djemaa el Fna

Past the dates sellers, and piles spices, red, orange, yellow, and brown

Past the henna girls chasing me in veils of black

Under the moonlit Koutobia Mosque, you gave me your depth and sensitivity

You gave me fresh orange juice with sugar

You gave me the small sharks posing as fish in the Menara gardens

You gave me the Valle de Ourika, Casablanca, Essaouira, Rabat, Fes, and Tangier

You gave me the Atlas Mountains, the promise of the Sahara

And a love affair with Marrakech

You gave me my name in Arabic

You gave me Omm Kalthoum and Abdel Halim Hafez

Berber Music, Shaabi, and Rai

You gave me camel rides, goats in trees, babuchas, kaftans

And Moroccan mint tea

You gave me “carino,” “amor,” “hobbi,” “habibati,” “kabida,” “guapa” and more

You gave me the loving words of compassion and tender affection I unknowingly feared I would forever crave

You gave me a world of fantasy I later packed into a dusty box of pictures and postcards with flowers, tickets and trinkets

If only for today,

Let me remember you this way

Poetry

The Mirror

You

Reflect the unconscious

Autonomous personalities that manage

Our lives

My favorite is the childlike affectionate one

Who loves unconditionally

And abundantly

Optimism is her closest friend

She is wonder and gratitude

Speaks only the language of trust

And spends all night reciting to the stars

Her heart rendering feelings for the moon

But no child is simpler than you

Speaking honestly

Directly

And at times unforgivingly

About how it’s always me and my interests

How I’m too busy and tired to think about

You

Sometimes you don costumes of royalty

And give dramatic speeches about loyalty

Family

And

Sacrifice

Then we cast roles of

Master and servant

Unwittingly, we ask marriage to show us ourselves

I embrace my insecurity and innocence

While projecting upon you my righteous pride and authority

Growing tired of roles I lie down and cry

Put on my pajamas

And ask to be tucked into bed

In the moonlight,

Your minds grows weary

And falls asleep at the helm

Making way for compassion

To come in its place

Eagerly, she paves a rode for

God to grant us His grace

So that we may pray the night never ends

As we finally kiss and embrace

Prose

The Unexpected

I walk in the door,

Tired, emotionally vulnerable, and hot

I wash yesterday’s dishes

In the stagnant hot kitchen air

While you shower and dress

Unexpectedly, you come

Up behind me and slide your arms

Around my waste

“I love you,” you say, as

I glance over my shoulder

Into your tender green eyes

In the El Cajon market, we

Inhale the smell of sweet freshly baked bread as

My hips threaten to make love to the Arabic pop

You smile telling me that

Everyone is watching

Me and my American face

I call you crazy until I see all the stares

Unaffected, we dance around the store

Saying hi to the little mishmish and

Praising God for date syrup, quince jelly,

mango juice, tamarind,

baklava,

And fresh Arabic bread

Sitting shotgun with my

Big square black plastic framed glasses

Sweaty worn out makeup, tired eyes

And greasy hair

You reach out to caress my thigh,

“You’re so beautiful,” you say

Inside I begin to realize

That you had long been frustrated

About not sharing

More moments like these

Poems

Your Poem

Your love assures and supports

It’s a shelter for innocence

A refuge for the brokenhearted

A sanctuary where fragile dreams are nurtured

And childhood longings are fulfilled

Your love envelopes and embraces

And makes the heart become whole

Poems

My dearest husband
 
My heart aches for you.
It longs for you and whimpers about your absence.
I try to redirect it towards my studies but it
sneaks up on me with its subtle nudges that ask
to be held and loved. I remind her that you'll be
back soon and that my mind can focus when you are far.
She doesn't care about my mind - it's of little interest to her-
she wants what she wants - and she keeps asking about you.
Would you please send her a message to quell her longings and silence her inquiries?