Inspired by my stay in Germany

Potbelly
Windows hidden in walls-my eyes;

If you twist my neck and
make me see what I keep at my back
You won’t make me your prisoner.

Only my body is the pearl in the oyster
Trapped in the belly of her own mother

But that grain of sand had no choice
You-oyster mother sucked it inside you
Warm , the pleasure and delight , you thought
Can keep the pearl away from
Evading your suffocating universe
But one day the seaman
Will smash you into pieces
Only can the pearl shine on a golden necklace


A Handful of Sorrow
I sqeezed it, tossed it until
My heart gave birth to a pip
It was full of thorns that had been tearing it ceaselessly
But the pain did not subdue
Since the sole of your foot
Had pressed it deeper and deeper inside
Until the blood ran no more
And my heart became dry like a fig.


Rage
What is natural to me is unnatural to you
You can roll your eyes like two peanuts in a hollow box
You can stick your tongue like an anchor
Trying to drop it into the quick sands of my conscience
You can unroll a carpet and say:
‘This is your territory
Never cross its borders”
But you’d only be the master-slave of your vain ambitions.
You shove against a wall
Trying to grasp the scent of the elevated world.
You can hold my hand tight.
Still, my hands are greasy,
And my fingers slip slowly away
Because I killed your Moby Dick
With  bare hands
There is no other world beyond us
You see only the shadows your imagination projects
On the wall of the cave.

Medusa

I let my pencil slip on the sheet of paper
A hundred times.
A river of winding lines
Destroying its intimacy , its identity.
And reordering it in the shape of my heart.
Intricate , full of thorns and tubes like a potato
Abandoned in a cardboard box and never used again.

A hundred times
I scratch deeper and deeper.
But before stopping I realise those winding  lines
Form a handful of hair

I have grown old and bald
Waiting for you.