Introducing Ghias Aljundi
I've known Ghias for around six years now - from the time that he first arrived in the UK from his homeland, Syria (via a long and dangerous route). Ghias is a born story-teller. He has always written but, in darker days, he had to bury his writings under a tree in his garden in order to keep them safe from prying eyes. During years of imprisonment, he wrote his stories in his head. I'd like to think that Ghias's tree is now bearing fruit - his words just keep coming. He has at least one-thousand-and-one big ideas and he turns them into poems, plays, short stories, articles. This is one of his latest poems. Ghias hopes to get his own blog up and running very soon, so keep checking back here for the link...
Night Poem
Night
Circles the sky
With strings of fear.
Strangers for the corners of time,
Passers-by for the angles of wind.
I pour my silence
Into a dark bottle
And drink the ancient sadness
From the ancient cellar.
Oh, how can we bring down
The towers of dignity
And kill the seasons of waiting,
Throw away the furniture of reality?
All days are
Introductions to the empty volumes
On the shelves of horizon,
Topic sentences
To the absence!
Ghias Aljundi,
Oxford, 27-2-05
Night Poem
Night
Circles the sky
With strings of fear.
Strangers for the corners of time,
Passers-by for the angles of wind.
I pour my silence
Into a dark bottle
And drink the ancient sadness
From the ancient cellar.
Oh, how can we bring down
The towers of dignity
And kill the seasons of waiting,
Throw away the furniture of reality?
All days are
Introductions to the empty volumes
On the shelves of horizon,
Topic sentences
To the absence!
Ghias Aljundi,
Oxford, 27-2-05
This entry was posted
on Thursday, March 17, 2005 at 4:45 pm.
You can skip to the end and leave a response.
» Post a Comment