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Labyrinth

Life is full of predicaments,
Labyrinths are the only road available.
Line your car with gas that spars
Long with the deadly turns that are viable.

Longing for straightforward success,
Laying out your failures that press.
Limp around giving a guess
Looking forward to new life that’s not less.

Legends are complex and teach
Loyalty and friendship, but suppress
Liars that generate a great reach
Leaving them as villains that squeals.

Light up your life with loyals
Living through difficulties and prove
Logical in their enterprises
Letting the faithful mind make a move.

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Repairing Life

Reap, repair, revere, reverse, roam, run
Embrace what’s broken,
Practice patience …
Air out your thoughts …

Implement actions to your goals…
Renew your drives
Implement changes
Never surrender to failures
Grow your flexibility and fix the impossible.

Somewhere
Once there,
My repair begins
Embedding …
Tuning into
Having patience
In achieving
New dreams
Gone wild with life!

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Aburi, A Haven

I walk through the road of centinal
Palm trees giving shade from the kindle
Of the noon sun, creating shade where only sun lit.

I look upon their majestic trunks
As elegant as a giraffe’s
Reaching into the sky, touching the heavens.

Once you reach the road’s end,
The vista of greens will land
You in a mirage of breathtaking scenes.

A short walk and you’ll reach
Boti Falls, distinguished with two chutes that leach
Into a large aquamarine pond that sizzles

With the force of the downpour,
And hides a cavern behind its ominous core,
That provides electricity and life to all nature.

Moving past such wonder,
You see man’s touch in greater
Spans of space, where a decrepit helicopter

Lies as stage for tourists and the picnickers
To look upon an antique object of wars,
Used to help beautify what’s already astounding.

I watch the centinals in my rearview mirror,
Wondering at my next visit to such a conqueror
Of beauty and memories of times yonder.

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Stillness


Work, work, work,
Workers buzzing like bees in fields,
Running, squatting, cutting, sewing,
Hammering, excavating, rushing.

Always hurrying to meeting
Deadlines and never seeming
To have time to be smelling
The silent burgeoning flowering
That sprout quietly without your noticing.

Beauty sneaks up on you while
You’re worried what comes next in vile
Humanity’s constant vocational
Need to be doing instead of contemplate
The importance of just faith and being.

Harrowing are your days
Of scurrying around in many ways
Trying to achieve a goal that’s always
Too far a ways.

Slow down,
Let your mind be a clown,
Laugh up a storm on your own,
And have your imagination blown!

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Heart

Heart, ohhh sweet heart,

I long for the days you were red,

Not a sunburnt heart full of dread.

Trampled heart

Disillusioned organ full of cheer,

Don’t give the fight that’ll impart

Moral, knowledge, friendship,

To all those who value

Mentorship over the need for material that rip

Your heart and soul

Replacing them with a money bowl.

By: Malak Kalmoni Chehab

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Books Serve

“Books serve to show a man that those original thoughts of his aren’t very new at all.” -Abraham Lincoln

Books Serve

Books are a great way to improve your linguistic ability, as well as widen your horizons by using your imagination. No idea in a book is really ‘new’, even Shakespeare only had 3 original concepts for plays, while the others were borrowed from previously written works or histories. This does Not mean that borrowing an idea and altering it to fit your story, theme, action, … is wrong, it just means you needed a starting point. Another example is when contests are themed, or have a word or expression that needs to be used in your work. Does that mean you’re stealing from others or using ‘it’ as a starting point? The result of these contests is that over 20 different perspectives are given by the variety of writers. Are they all plagiarizing when their content is so vastly different? ‘Turn it in’ is another way that teachers and professors assess that your work is at least 80 to 85% your actual writing and not borrowed or copied.

So, tell me what you think about using an idea as a starting point.

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Buried in Ice

Drowning under a sheet of ice,

Flaying, swimming endlessly trying, vainly

To raise your head above the rise of the watery

Sepulcher that’s more somber than any bleak cave.

The sinuous water caresses and spontaneously

Freezes as it embraces our slumberous weight into its

Stygian obscurity, driving fear into our heavy hearts.

Propelling our entrenched sense of ‘fight or flight’ not to be flighty!

Our terror of being buried alive on land or sea

Is an apologue for the actions we take to embed

Our confusion in unraveling the social behaviored sea

Corresponding to a multicultural divide that’s likened

To attempting to surmount Everest’s easiest route

To a summit that is the ‘ideal’ we have of success.

We worry so about success and measure it with the ‘norms’

And forget our actual achievements that we need to celebrate.

Brake the ice, punch through the barrier, surge above

The mud and disgust of a world buried in icy artifice,

That needs to compete and surpass one another, and be

Who you need to be so your uniqueness can shine.