A street through a wall
To be tormented by woman in your imagination
a woman created by your visions
from illusions and emotinal pain.
To sleep blissfully on the thorns of her laughter
To see her, with your eyes closed, roaming through the deserts
Of your ruin
To let her weave leisurely, leisurely
the snares of her charm around your neck
to feel the light ealls of her footsteps
coming slowly towards your night
To watch her levity as she goes up like butterflies
towards a bank in the blaze of your bed
To accompany her to the sky,s distant limits
When she passes the feathers of her hand over freckles
climbing the sighs of your chest
To encircle her like a dove
with your arms in binding longing
To cover the hems of her desire
With the unruliness of your horses till the break of dawn.
***
A woman who, carelessly , split up your life dream
into two, halves,
cut with her gaze street
through the wall of your confusion,
hammered the nail of her picture, forcibly, into
the head of your imagination,
a woman who couldn,t leave the walls of your delusion
***
Her only guilt was to smile one dey,
by the sidewalk, at a guy in front of her,
whom you blocked out, unintentionally,
by standing between them.
You kept gazing at her, with a prolonged desire,
You weren't aware that your standing was delaying
a spacious bosom would open its arms in the wind
to take her away from you
after a little while.
She Lost the Keys to Her Desire
A lonely woman
Struggling with the whip of autumn
With hands so bare
Of luck, family, and friends
The autumn which kept creeping over
trees she hid
away from the passers
How she fears the past,
and a dream that doesn’t visit her sleep twice.
Whenever she fences with the little of her hands
the butterflies of a dawn waving at her,
the palm of absence
went fading her shadows in the wind
She no longer cares
about the goldfinches fleeing of the dimness of her terrace
Life has taught her to bend away
from the joyfulness of her femininity, so soon
to not reach for the ripe fruit
On the branches of the body
To not try to awaken her shivers
At the fall of night..
She lost the keys to her desire
In the long await with which she consoles the bird
That bleeds from her soul
With hollow eyes
So empty of warmth, love, and hopes
She keeps rowing down an empty river
Surrounding her loneliness at the brink of night,
willingly
She surrenders herself to the ill exile
Without a single glimpse to the flute that lulls
the embers of her fires
from the distance
A long night passes
on the metallic silence of her solitude
The pains that gaze into mirrors
looks on her dream pouringly
There’s no clear meaning
to this headache dwelling in her head
For autumn has ended
And the morning of butterflies
Is about to regain its footsteps
to a bank far at the end of the coos
And there’s nothing preventing the river
From tracking the passage of her anklet
On the nearby hills!
Could she desire to praise the eye of the distant again?!
Could she weave from the sun a shawl for her cold femininity,
From a new dawn?!
Ali Alhazmi was born in Damadd, Saudi Arabia, Ali Alhazmi obtained a degree in Arabic Language and Literature at Umm Al-Qura University, Faculty of Arabic Language. As early as 1985, Ali started publishing his poetry in a variety of local and Arabic international cultural publications including The Seventh Day (Paris), Creativity (Cairo), Nazoa (Amman) and The New Text. He has participated various International Poetry Festivals including; Costa Rica (2013), Spain (2014), Uruguay (2015), Cuba, Colombia and Turkey (2016), Italy and Romania (2017) and Spain (2018). His work has been translated into many languages, and his publications include: A Gate for the Body (1993), Loss (2000), Deer Drink Its Own Image (2004), Comfortable on the Edge (2009), and Now in the Past (2018). His awards include: Medal of Poetry (Uruguay, 2015), The World Grand Prize for Poetry, (Romania 2017), the Verbumlandi Prize (Italy, 2017) and Best International Poet (China, 2018). Global IconAward (Italy, 2020). Italian Prize “Colors of the Soul” (Italy, 2021).