Kuwait Invasion

thought of the day:

some people think a lot and speak a lot but back down at the time of doing

My mobile woke me up this morning, and my best friend was on the other line saying: “inti nayma lail 7een we dinya ma3foosa bara? shofay shino sayer be Salmiya, gatel we imthaba7…..” Translated (not literally) to English:” are you still asleep? The country is in a chaos, shooting and killing in Salmiya…..”.

My heart sank, and a horrible feeling of a distant past downed on me. When at five AM my sister in law called and woke me up on the mournful day of Aug.2,1990 , the day Sadam’s crusaders invaded my country. This phone call destroyed my whole day. I kept remembering the days when the Iraqi solders were camping along our borders and we took their move so lightly. And then he took us by surprise, killing our loved ones and scattering us like cockroaches when you turn on the light..

Is history repeating itself in another form of Sadam? Is it our fate to have our destructive enemy right from within this time? Would I wake up one day with a phone call informing me that the civil war has started in Kuwait? Are we taking these incidents very lightly at the time being? And what can we do to prevent it? What can I do to prevent it? What if the country turned into another Iran or Saudi Arabia? Where would we go? How would we live? Om el Haiman, Abdallah Elsalim, Khaitan, Salmitah, where is next? who is next?Does anyone have any answer to these questions?

All what I can say is; you damn &^%$ terrorists, get out of my country, go back to Saudi Arabia or Egypt or wherever hell you belong, I need my peace of mind, I demand my security. I yearn for my peaceful Kuwait.( big sigh)

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The Night Before

Thought of the day:

A smile can make short work of any difficulty

He demanded to see her for he was leaving to spend his summer vacation with his family; and by the time he returns she will be gone on hers. This means that it would be a month and a half away without seeing each other. She went to see him the night before he left, and what a bittersweet night it was.

He opened for her his door, pulled her to himself and kissed her like he’d never see her again. This may be his last night with her, he might never see her again knowing that there is no hope in their relationship.

He greeted her in, fixed her drink, and played the chill out music. He then dropped beside her on the couch and started chatting with her. Not actually chatting, more like asking her short questions. By the time she answered each question; he slipped his fingers through her long hair, touched her eyes, and impinged the warmth of her lips to receive a sensual kiss that stimulated lust through his fingertips. He actually was not listening to her. His mind was beyond his vision. His mind was appreciating her beauty, and the funny way she was struggling to update him, instantly. However, there was sadness in his eyes. With her vision she could see what he was hiding behind his big smile. She knew she would terribly miss him since she even misses him when he is around. She is still overwhelmed by his passion, but she will leave the tragic scene for now. She wanted every minute of tonight to be happy and memorable.

The gentle slipping of his fingers under her soft T-shirt lowered the volume of her voice to a sensuous desire. She took him in and the room shook with the aroma and the sound of love.

While in the bathroom, scrubbing off her pleasures, he joined her, took the sponge from her hand and tossed it away. And with his bare hands he lathered her skin and whispered in her ears “what smooth skin you have, and what a golden color. I can never get enough of you”. Then again, love aroma mixed with the shower gel insinuated their senses and orchestrated the orgasmic sound which was magnified by the enclosed bathroom.

Only a few hours and she should be heading to her office while he’d be boarding the plane. Her mind insisted on staying awake and devouring every minute, and her eyelids would not give in. The chores of her day have taken its toll on her and she kept dosing, while her mind alerted her to the preciousness of the few remaining moments. Every time she opened her eyes, he was watching her with a sad smile. He could not go to sleep.

By the door, they kissed and hugged as he whispered in her hair” promise me that you will never leave me no matter what happens”. With a heavy heart and detained tears she answered: “I do”. she then ran to her car, drove full speed and washed her soul with her sorrow.

Time seemed to have slowed to almost a stand, the ” Sharm Elshaikh” trip she was so much looking forward to, seemed like a burden. Two weeks passed without a word. She entered his number in her mobile so many times, but never pushed the “call” button; she knew this act was strictly forbidden when he was with family. Another week passed with a total withdrawal in the company of her constantly whining sister on the shores of “Sharm Elshaikh”. And still no calls from him. By the third week, the situation became so intense that a serious fight started between the two sisters. The younger sister thought of herself as a neat and elite kind of a person that would only be in the company of the people that matched her rank. She spent most of her time complaining about her Egyptian friends. She did not have the heart for that; her chaotic mind was somewhere else. It was fixed on the mobile, envisioning him popping out of the screen and kissing her in the same fashion he did the night they parted.

As soon as she heard the anticipated network beep in Kuwait Airport, she dialed his number but received no answer, she messaged him, but there was no reply. He should have been back a week ago. Why hadn’t he called. Why hadn’t he answered her calls? This was out of character for him. could something have happened to him? She was beginning to loose her mind. Another week passed with no news to calm her mind. She had to visit their mutual friend’s place on the weekend, she was sure she would see him there. With all the years that she had known him, she knew he never missed a visit to that friend on weekends. And although this friend had suspected that something was going on between them, he had never uttered a word, and was always a true friend to both of them.

And as the week came to an end, her adrenaline level started to leap to the peak. She stayed three hours at her friend’s, but he didn’t show up. Her friend had said that he had just seen him a couple of nights ago and that he seemed fine and happy. What went wrong? Why was her lover avoiding her?

With a heavy heart, she drove back to her home hardly seeing the streets ahead amidst the clouds that formed in her eyes. And as if in a dream; the strangled sound of the familiar tone coming from her bag jerked her off her seat and pumped blood to the highest nerve in her head. He had finally called.

She: “Hi, where are you, I missed you, I ke….”

He (with a croaked voice): “sorry sweetie, ahhhhhhhhh…..there has been some developments;…… I’m back with my ex-wife, but I want you to know this: I love, and I need you, I need you, I need you”

The End Posted by Hello

“The Love of Souls ” by Andrew Gonzalez

A Thank you Note

Tought of today:

when the mind is tired, every single action requires great effort



Several friends have responded to my post http://3asal.blogspot.com/2005/01/rain-depression.html

either by posting on my blog directly or by e-mail. And although I prefer having the comments on my blog for future reminiscing, nevertheless I want to thank the anonymous ones who took the time to write. And also want to thank my blog buddies for their warm feelings. One of the mails contained the lyrics to a classical song for Simon and Garfunkel, I always loved that song and the anonymous did not know how comforting his mail was in bringing back nice memories.

Thank you all I really appreciate it.


Simon and Garfunkel

Concert in Central Park (1982)

Bridge over troubled water

When you’re weary, feeling small,

When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all;

I’m on your side. When times get rough

And friends just can’t be found,

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down.

When you’re down and out,

When you’re on the street,

When evening falls so hard

I will comfort you.

I’ll take your part.

When darkness comes

And pain is all around,

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down.

Sail on silver girl,

Sail on by.

Your time has come to shine.

All your dreams are on their way.

See how they shine.

If you need a friend

I’m sailing right behind.

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will ease your mind.

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Secret Lover

thought of today:

today is the international day of SEXY n ATTRACTIVE people, so get a hang on it

After midnight, his special day would start; his birthday. The only gift he’d want is to see her and celebrate the small hours of his day with her in his arms. She won’t forget. After all he threw a party for hers a few months ago, surly she’d remember.

He went to Sultan Center and got all the groceries needed for the celebration, and went to his hair dresser and cut his hair just the way she likes it, tip-toed in his father’s wine cellar to smuggle the Italian brand she liked the most. Now he is ready.

He took his maid to prepare the apartment he got few months back two blocks away from hers. While arranging the candles and the tulips, his hazel eyes snatches a glance at his mobile, but nothing from her; no missed calls and no massages. Well it’s two hours early, she must be with family, and knowing how much she likes surprises, he’s sure that she will call at the strike of the midnight and he will surprise her. He stretched on the couch that still held her aroma from the last time he made love to her and started drinking to her health and listening to her favorite music. With the last chime of the twelfth hour he fixed his gaze on the screen of his mobile; but nothing, the mobile was practically mute.

As another half an hour passed, he started recalling their last separation. It was his fault, he is the one who ditched her, but she didn’t leave any chance for a rebound; she left with another. Could something have happened this time as well? Did he aggravate her by reminding her every time they meet? He knew she loved him, but how could he trust her. Or does she really love him? Then how come she’d never mention anything every time she catches him off guard with another woman? How come she’s never jealous? There is only one explanation to this, she has another secret lover.

Now its two hours after midnight and the first wine bottle is empty, he has to know, he has to sneak into her place, and he can’t stand it any longer. Off he runs to his car, and calls her.

The familiar, heart wrenching “baby boy” ringer deafens the hush of the night. And between the layers of the bed sheet she stretches a hand to pick up her mobile, her other palm awakens the puffed face from a deep sleep.

She: “hi, what time is it”

He: “time for celebration baby”… she doesn’t even remember

She: “why what’s going on”… he must have missed me

He: “never mind, where are you” … I will beat the shit out of both of them

She:” home, where else at this hour?”… what in the hell is wrong with him, he must be drunk.

He:” what are you doing”… She must be in bed with him; I know that orgasmic voice so well.

She:” I was asleep, you woke me up “…can’t he tell from my voice?

He:” who is with you?”… I shouldn’t have said that now she’ll sneak him out

She: “in bed? No one” good god, he is awfully drunk.

He:” do I have to remind you that today is my birthday” I’ll stall her for more time until I finish parking my car.

She: “the day has not started yet”… shit I have totally forgotten

He (shouting) “it’s two fifteen AM, the day has started and I wanted to celebrate with you the fucking first hours”… now I’m in a close proximity, if he sneaks out, I’ll surly catch him.

She:” sorry babe you didn’t tell me, I didn’t know”…god I love him, how could I forget

He: “open the door for me I’m outside”… now there will be no chance for him to run away

She: “what? Oh… ok” … I’m in deep shit, I know he is mad, I know he’ll never forgive me

As she opens the door, he sees those eyes full of him, he picks her off the ground, carries her to bed, tears off her pajamas, and savagely makes love to her.

Not a word said.

He (panting): don’t ever leave me.

She (panting): how could I?

The End

_________________ Posted by Hello

“Aeterna Saltatus” by Andrew Gonzalez

Rain Depression

Thought of today:

If I keep the weaknesses of others in my mind, they soon become a part of me

As I sit watching the rain through my balcony door, all memories down on me, why do I always get depressed when it rains? I kept fooling myself that it’s all past and gone, or is it really gone? Why all these “whys” don’t leave me alone?

Why amidst my loneness you appear? Why is it so hard to forget? Why didn’t you leave a space in my heart for another? Why did you hurt me? Why can’t I hate you? Why the last night of us together keeps buzzing in my head? Why did you ask me not to ever leave you? Why our last chant of “la ilaha ila allah, Mohamad rasoul allah” did not reunite us? Why are you back now? Why can’t I go back now? Why do I keep torturing myself? Why do I miss you so much? Why am I writing this? Why….. Posted by Hello


Fire-Breathing Dragon in My Brain, by Julie Seyler

The Inspirers of my "love Poems"

Thought of today:

If I am impatient to experience the results of my efforts, it is like trying to eat unripe fruit”

Posted by Hello

I have been asked a lot of times if I have meant any individual in my “love poems”, some might even think that I’m writing about them. And although being in love adds that extra special zing in the words, in my personal experience, I do not have to be in actual love to express its emotions, I experience this love through inspiration, and it could be a very private love that even the inspirer does not know about it. In a nutshell: I’m always in love with love.

The important thing in the end is the piece I write, and the reader who can relate to it.

To all those who inspired me, to those who identified themselves through my “love poems”, and to my readers I dedicate this.

And Happy Eid to all.

Poet’s love

 

Hey you, don’t cite my verse out laud

 

Thinking it’s all about you

 

Your dazzling eyes in a crowd

 

Single out like diamonds do

 

Although to you my words I vowed

 

To your zest and meek virtue

 

But not because of you I bowed

 

Through my lyrics to a mythical statue

 

**

 

And you; my honey dew sweetheart

 

Amid your chin carved a dimple

 

Sitting proudly as a piece of art

 

So arrogant, yet so simple

 

To your path my soul would dart

 

A load of passion so ample

 

But still beat not for you my heart

 

Although there has been a couple

 

**

 

Now you, my awesome sculpture

 

Flawless; in a total perfection

 

Your body seals a signature

 

Of god’s quote: “Limited selection”

 

Michelangelo is an amateur

 

In grasping your bronze reflection

 

But still, it’s your shadow I capture

 

And alight in my own perception

 

**

 

So cite my lyrics with confidence

 

Identify yourself an’ up soar

 

If it brings you happiness

 

Then you can ask me for more

 

If emptiness is what you feel

 

I’d forsake my art in dour

 

In my poem, you’re the deal

 

That inspires the metaphor

 

**

 

My statement to all is this

 

“Up heave your expectation,

 

Dive in my art and bless

 

In your unique identification

 

But my Scribbles are not to press

 

On me a binding resignation

 

For all this passion is, nonetheless;

 

A figment of my imagination”

 

 

The CBCB

Thought of today:

To give happiness to others is a grat act of charity

The Cyber Book Club of Bloggers

I had a suggestion from a bloging buddy Jelly Bellyhttp://jellybellynonsense.blogspot.com/ , and backed up by other bloggers; to have some type of a book club for the bloggers. An idea formed in my head to create another grouped blog and name it “The Cyber Book Club of Bloggers”, this blog is to be totally dedicated for books that members of the group read and want to post about for the benefit of all. At this stage consider this post as a brain storming session; all creative ideas on the design, process, and layout of the proposed blog are appreciated, and bloggers who wish to join in the group are most welcome.

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