supple soul


You age,
stiffen your sinews,
bones etched with hieroglyphics of hurt
and beautifully,
your soul becomes supple.

I couldn’t show you how this happens,
when vigour clouds your judgement,
when youth gives you hope,
yet numbs you of tasting.

There’s an agreement with time,
relinquishing your affairs to their allotted appointments,
trusting beyond your comprehension,
faith if you will,
in being faithless insofar as holding God accountable,
rather, holding Him capable,
of anything, of anything.

Your soul aches for this flexibility,
but first,
your body waits for the battering.

-Wesam El dahabi

wanting

It’s hard to express kindness,
as much as you ache to,
when the aches,
of having it beat out of you,
remind you to lift your guard.
But there is a caress,
tender and wafting,
a breath on your neck,
a whisper by your ear,
that disarms you,
and suddenly,
you only gush kindness.
Being trapped is a choice,
if you listen intently,
you’ll hear it,
your want will turn into your breath.

W.E.

Image is the amazing work of Hossein Irandoust Moghadam

affinity of a man

If your spasm to do,
is not stronger,
than your spasm to speak,
or even think,
then you are involuntarily living.

You’re merely a collection of material markers,
your spirit, has not been tamed enough,
to learn the wisdom of temperament,
and the power that comes with serving,
nor the control that falls into your hands.

But manhood has been washed away,
into the abyss of in-definition,
to appease the lazy.

Your affinity to help,
must be stronger than your affinity to judge,
that is,
using ones hands or other abilities,
should be at the battlefront,
as opposed to looking from afar.

-Wesam El dahabi

 

who it comes to

 

All beautiful things are concealed well.
Pearls, diamonds, sages, gnostics and my favourite;
artists and writers who only become apparent when they pass.

If you think you’re going to arrive,
at beauty without a struggle,
wisdom and truth without suffering,
peace without a war inside of you,
if you think you’re entitled to it all by default,
just for existing,
then you’re deluded,
and deserve to be barred from it.

Do the work and be patient.

-Wesam El dahabi

Amazing pieces by Hossein Irandoust

Lure

 

I was only a boy,
when I learned to swallow my voice.

I kept mute,
not because I wanted to be silver tongued,
but because I wanted to be musk breathed.

I hoped,
that it was merely my presence
that would lure them to me.

Years later,
a mouth full of silver,
and a bellyful of musk,
I hope,
my absence keeps them as far as possible.

Lure,
is a burden,
the antithesis to my sanity.

And yet I am obliged,
to be utterly in service,
ever the servant.

I observe,
more than what my heart can contain,
I feel,
with intensity that only tames with violence
and I taper my temperament,
to continue to be unnoticed.

My youth has a reoccurring theme and what echoes the most is its ordinariness. Contrary to clichéd thought, I believe ordinariness in those primitive stages of growth are what allow imagination to thrive.

One doesn’t need a wretched childhood or an upbringing that dances around psychological trauma to be creative or inspired, to be able to achieve a goal for the pure satisfaction of completion.

Sometimes, its all that emptiness, and freedom to roam as wildly as possible in your own world, inside yourself, with no threat, nor external persuasion that allows you to comfortably nestle into a unique niche and make sure the world knows just how extraordinary you are.

W.E.