Pieces scatter
the earth
leaving the task
at hand –
With hand and heart
I shall sew a story
a tale to mend
your life.
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Amine M’Siouri from Pexels
#Micropoetry #Shortverse #Story

Pieces scatter
the earth
leaving the task
at hand –
With hand and heart
I shall sew a story
a tale to mend
your life.
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Amine M’Siouri from Pexels
#Micropoetry #Shortverse #Story

That greedy glint
in the eye of the fooled
the eye of the lost
my heart left in the home of the tricked
What does it take for them to wake up?
To stop selling their fortunes
for the land of milk and honey
the land where the streets are paved in gold
the lies told to lure them
What will it take before the tales of fools
are replaced with the folklore of the ancient?
The contentment of the indigenous?
What will it take for the
Mad Hatter to end his greedy voyages
into the hearts of the innocent?
I am ravaged like the forests of the Amazon!
Ravaged like the tombs of Egypt!
And where do the tombs rest now?
In the land of the greedy, the violent
in the land of the weeping
I am the ravaged exile!
The ravaged land of the tricked
and the ravaged heart
of the fool.
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Free Creative Stuff from Pexels
#Spokenword #Ravaged #Poet #Lies

Did you know I could stay here all day?
writing and wasting away
words keep coming
releasing a gorge
an orgy of thumping dancing syllables surge
playing on my tongue, jumping in my head
begging to display.
I love this feeling, intensity and healing
pleasing my body with lusciousness reeling,
bleeding from my mouth to my page.
Did you know I could stay here all day?
penning and pining, bated breath reclining
waiting, for something to say.
it’s nighttime now, but time is out of place
when images are flying, bouncing from space
to grace this page alive,
with such disgrace
emboldened, completely burning away.
Did you know I could stay here all day?
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Lisa Fotios from Pexels
Original Post first blogged on Feb. 9th 2020
This poem came up, when my wife and I were talking about how fast time goes by, when you are in that flow of creativity as an artist. And, I wrote this as an expression of that experience, and damnit, it’s hard to pull ones self away from that flow, to attend to the ever nagging “tasks”, that prey on me, on a daily basis. This will forever be my love and my potential demise, I suppose. arggghh!
#Poetry #Rhymes #Healing #Writing

living in this world today to wonder
about and pray of not dying
the living live in constant death
and of love and of fear intertwined
like a ball of yarn spun then dropped
in dismay.
living in this world today to ponder
away the life given in love and lust
and sometimes in rage, doped up
by the news bitten from hate.
living in this world today to squander
the love born yesterday to strangle
the innocence of nuance and play.
living in this world today to blunder
the blessing of angels and saints who
deliver from evil the human decay
‘a life worth living’ is what they say
however you cut it, don’t piss it away.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by sergio souza from Pexels
#Poetry #Freeverse #Life #Living #Love

The storms brewing up a big downpour
Odd encounter with the inside of my skull
Cranium matter knocking at my soul
The waves batter violently, nausea, ad nauseum
Takes control, Lost to an apathy a listless inner
Sanctum possessed, crawled like a beetle
in gestation, worm-holed larvae, no rhyme
No reason strikes to the far reaches, inside,
calling my name outloud, small little voices,
drown, drown, drown this storms battering like rams
swinging hammers, pounding viciously
At the gray matter.
@Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Matt Hardy from Pexels

There are days where endless talk just stops. It quells the spells of bickering in the house. The moon waits for curtain call to unveil its presentation of the blue, the harvest, the wolf, the red, the many moons above. Love lost on the moon, unimpressed with the fray. Day lingers, seamless gray. Attention brought eyes to stray, the burnt grass, the brown, the solemn day. Fickle he is to fitter away the black oceans, the starlight, the peck peck pecking of flamingoes, in the gulf’s bay. Moon oh moon! Star oh star! Frighten me not, love far. Dry grass and pavement clayed, broken, shards left to shambles, in disarray. The macadam in ruins, the buried graves. The endless talk breaks the day.
Photo by Jan Tinneberg on Unsplash
#Prose #Poetry #Verse

I trace the longitudes and latitudes
over and over
I pour fastidiously my attention
to the roar in the cage
as he furiously paces the floor
the corners, the bars, that trap him.
I traverse backwards in time
to how pity is fed like a thick blob
of stiff porridge to your children
to satisfy an indulgence in self-annihilation
the failure in this, is proven by their repetition.
I remember the day you pushed me out the
door of abolition and expected the return
of some bogus genuflection, so bogus that you
and I and the entire clan held this as a checkmate
in some unspoken constitution.
I trace the longitudes and latitudes
searching for the treasures hidden deep
in riddles and rejection. The escape became
a well-worn protection.
A gladiator champion won the affection
of his heart, so see, I rise, I break free
Aye this warrior, this champion
let the dust settle and be.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Bruno Martins on Unsplash
#Poets #Freeverse #Travel #Maps