Thursday, September 30, 2010

Parlour Tricks

Last month I saw some Christian priests in Tyre
Making magic bread from ordinary loaves.
Yesterday I saw an Imam in the souk
Casting out demons with a talisman.
I have heard of people with many gods
Rolling on the ground and prophesying.
And I think these are all very impressive.
But I do not think I shall do any of these things.

Parlour tricks are all very well and good.
But Najat prefers necking.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Why Should I Pray?

Spiritual seekers always ask me the same question,
“Why should I pray?
Doesn’t God already know what I need?”

This is a question for religious people, not for lovers.
Lovers do not need to ask why they should crack jokes,
whisper pillow talk, worry aloud, or make love.

Praying isn’t a list of things you want from the market
It’s the kind of proposition best accompanied
by slowly rolling your tongue over your lips, and the batting of bedroom eyes.

Najat says, face Mecca and prostrate yourself five times a day.
Making love is easier lying down, anyway. 

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

How Lovers Long to Die

Once, when I was exploring the ruins of an ancient palace,
I sat beneath the shade of a date tree
To eat the meal I had packed.

Soon after I had finished, as I sat enjoying the breeze
A doe approached me, her muzzle gray
and her movements stiff with age.

Fearing I would frighten her, I tried not to move.
In wonder I watched as she sniffed at my hand,
Then stumbled, sank to her knees, and gently laid her head in my lap.

One black eye met mine,
Then light within it faded,
And she was dead.

This is how lovers long to die,
At the end of many fine years,
Their faces caressed by the hands of Love as the light fades from their eyes.

Najat says, You do not need to wait
until the hour of your death
To rest your head in the lap of your Beloved.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Love is a Tiger

Love is a tiger
The rarest of cats, He is the very essence of beauty
He is power, muscles rippling just beneath the skin
He is majesty, carrying the balance of life and death in His dread jaws

Love is not predictable
He doubles back when you think you are on His trail
He lies in wait for you, silent until the moment of the killing pounce
He will find you no matter how deep into the jungle you flee

Love rules all the worlds
Brings them into being with His roar
Brings them to life with hot breath
Plays with them between His paws

Love is terrible
If you are not frightened, you should be.
But Najat says this to you:
Go to your home, and gather your weapons.
Tigers should be hunted.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Don't Feel Bad

Don’t feel bad.
You were not made for days like this.
You were made for days that are wild with passion
And for nights hot with wine and sweat and kisses
And the whispering of secrets.

But this day is a day of longing
Of crying out into empty air, “where are you?”
When your Love is nowhere to be seen,
And the waiting seems worse than death.

“Why,” you cry, “has my Love abandoned me?
Did I not dote enough?
Were there not enough tender words?
Or too many spoken in anger?”

Najat says, Shush. Don’t feel bad. Days end.
Your love has never stopped caressing you,
And covers your neck with kisses even as you hear these words.
That you do not feel Him with you all the time is no one’s fault.
You must turn your face away from Him
Or His brilliance will make you blind.