Poem - On The Fringe Of Hope, Poet - Ahmed F. Baidoon (Egypt)

 

On The Fringe Of Hope

Here I am – embalmed in a city of vanity,

Destitute of truth and free from obscenity,

Ponder upon lies and my skiff of monotony with penetrant stride,

No longer could I see dynasty of utopia or good morals to abide.

Here I am – when darkness loomed and long last despair,

A doddering wisdom of mine, how do I dare?

Deprived of elixir of going on, stripped of my joyous parade,

Barricaded with gossip, bunded with premises of blockade,

Of such imbued clouds on the top of the world,

Mongering flammable rays of the gyre whirled.

In my woven cell, I trapped myself,

Did those letters frisk the targeted shelf?

Crown my cocoon with a fluttering butterfly,

Suckling my lethargy and I;

Did nothing but a nostalgic cry!

Without Words

That soul of yours – with intermittent throbbing pulse,

Be it you wholeness, a realm of dreams,

Tinged with aromatic spell of tempestuous stream; 

Of mighty wrath and flux of untold pathos,

That gentle ravishing mistress “congeniality” is what world meant to me.

She smiled across that fearful screen,

With moaning torrential tears,

Holding her dolly with helpless gene,

Her house of fiction did cast her away,

Excuse my shredded expression – pardon my delay,

I have nothing in the palm of hands for salvation,

That merciless monstrous girdle did quit my solace,

Likewise, putting you under his custody and fetters of guillotine,

And, sentence you and I in a moribund.

Then, that far-fetched hemisphere doth abandon us in nowhere,

Our soul’s plea for succor, yelling out for a panacea,

For me, a hermit on a dismantled podium;

And you, a diamond-in-the rough, tucked away in a dormant statuette.

Written by the Egyptian poet:Ahmed F. Baidoon