My Poem Free-Falling Flower published in Flora Fiction

Hi all,
just to share this poem, which I am pretty sure most of my readers have never seen
as I posted this here in 2011.
It is now in the Volume 2 Issue Summer 2021 of Flora Fiction Magazine, both digital and in print.
You can find the whole issue here online free at: https://florafiction.com/literary-magazine/
Thank you again to Flora Fiction for including my poem in their issue.

I hope you enjoy this free-falling poetic thought:) (Zoom in:)
Screen Shot 2021-06-20 at 11.51.23 AM


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Lie To Me

Lie To Me
(inspired by the song, https://youtu.be/b0-HtQ_XyGI)

A long time ago, I sat in an airplane
in the days of the iPod,
my marriage dissolving into the clouds
trailing like a tail on the jet stream.
I was going West and leaving my heartache behind
listening to Chris Isaak’s “Lie To Me;”
I cried all the way home.

I flew to the refuge of colored birds,
The humid nights, and kind words.
Still shell-shocked, I stayed in my room,
like coming home from a war, that could never be won,
Without being dramatic, I knew
If I stayed any longer, I would be dead.

Funny how songs can take you by the hand
and time travel you backwards
whether you want to or not.
How if you close your eyes,
you hear the rumble of the jets,
and you see those desert nights
of yelling, threats and so much more,
that made you run to the tarmac

and get on that plane.

Lie lie lie to me… on a 12 hour loop
over the cold Atlantic Sea.
All that love, where did it go?
All those plans for our family?
The sights and smells of The Middle East
getting further from me, as the engines hum and cruise.
I will never be able to hear this song again,
without smelling the canned air, the coffee,
dinner being prepared…
a kind voice saying softly,
“Can I get you anything?”

Karima Hoisan
June 18, 2021
Costa Rica

 

 

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The Voice in Your Ear

good dale

The Voice in Your Ear

I am the voice in your ear,
your avatar that knows you
inside and out
and you know me,
but perhaps….
you will never know me,
never touch my hand
brush my lips with yours –
and yet we know so much…
maybe more than people
we call our friends.
We have each other’s memories
and we save them as our own;
we have danced a thousand boleros
by the sea,
our avatars moving so gracefully
the music carrying us away:
on salted rhythmic tides,
is where we fell in love.

A pair of demi-virtual-gods,
we make beauty out of nothing,
building world after world.

We compliment what we both possess,
what God gave us when we were born
and I think I wear our tattoo like a birthmark;
I was meant to meet you;
I have no doubt you were meant to meet me.
We have lunch in the city,
the real traffic honking past our table
and I am your body-less date
sitting across from you in an empty chair,
my voice in your ear.
We munch and lunch on dumplings.
We laugh and we are as together as anyone
Maybe even more.
We convert into horses and gallop the cliffs,
Back in the virtual…we can do anything!
We both have the imagination,
the super-charged creativity,
God’s gift from the beginning.,
and it’s what has kept us together
these last nine years!
Riding the train, I am once again,
the voice in your ear,
not solid, but fluid and we laugh
at some old memory; I hold your hand
with words.. and I feel so blessed,
for all this time…

to be in your life and you in mine.

Karima Hoisan
June 13, 2021
Costa Rica

 

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Holding Hands

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                                            Karak Jordan 2007

In my sleep last night
that dream appeared again;
I had to make a choice
and I chose you.

I always seem to choose the memory
instead of the reality,
I wonder if you were alive,
if you would too?

I know a memory will not fulfill
nor will it disappoint,
a memory is safe enough
at least while I’m asleep.

And we held hands again,
I saw us from above and from behind
holding hands, as if time stopped
and you had never died.

People really seemed surprised,
to see us promenading in the street,
with fingers entwined so gracefully,
our veils hiding our twinkling smiles.

Karima Hoisan
June 1, 2021
Costa Rica

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Author of The Month Nomination at Spillwords

Hi dear readers….:)
look, I never usually do this; I find it a bit embarrassing and “beggy,” but I will ask my readers this time,(I have been nominated before) if they would like to give me a vote as, “Author of the Month” There is time between today through Saturday,5/26-5/29

I know this is more of a social media popularity thing, to drive traffic to their website (and I don’t have a big presence on social media:) but it is also an honor to be chosen out of many authors/poets so I will pass this one on to all of of you and if you think me worthy, go to their link highlighted below and vote for me me me   Please!  :):)

PS I see they ask you to log in, but WP, as well as Fb and Twitter, can also be used..

Thank you all for taking your time to vote 🌹❤️🙏
Karima

Dear Authors,

 

We are reaching out to let you know that you all have been nominated for ‘Author of The Month’ of May.

 

Congratulations!

  

Voting will be conducted via this page: https://spillwords.com/vote/

  

This is also the link you can share with family and friends.

 

   

THE NOMINEES ARE:

  

Jenise Cook
Ian Fletcher
Karima Hoisan
Christian Ward
Mitch Bensel
Ivanka Fear
Ann Christine Tabaka
 

  

General Voting will be officially held from 5/26-5/29

  

The Winner will be announced soon after the voting has been completed.
 

  

Good Luck To All!

    

Thank you for your amazing collaboration and participation.

  

  

Warm regards,

     

Editing Team | Editing Department

editor@spillwords.com

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Crino-lin-lin-line

Please play this music so you will see how it totally transported me and inspired my poem:)


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Crino- lin- lin -line!
Puffs your sleeves like shoulder clouds as you weave in and out…
Dancing tight and light, twirling like colorful sand devils
around the park  or the gymnasium….
It’s Mexico..It’s Brooklyn, It’s an Albanian Wedding Party; its wherever your mind goes with this music, that dances you out of your daily death rattle…
your boring modern moment.
Your espresso, 3 -decker sandwich, 15 minute coffee breaks..
Stuff it in your face and dream of parading hands held high around the floor

No… no…no… no more!!

Put on your Crin- o- lin- lin- line!
Bells and bodices, wrapped in silk belts and layer after layer…
Embroidered  tassled vests, graceful booted feet in velvet….
Ahhhhh swoon with me!
This beat is playing our song… whirling skirts of purple orange and green

Starch a white shirt, grab a black vest,
white pants with embroidered cuffs and run out the door.

Hold that beauty in scarf and headdress and swing her around the floor
Go back in time..when just dancing could keep you alive…
Kick out!  Shout out!!.. flashing all those smiles of pretty pearly white.
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Remember your youth? Promise me you won’t forget this Brass section…
That carries you between Mexico and the Bronx, between Brooklyn and
The Adriatic and Ionian Sea in Mariachi style in the most beautiful  ironic harmony…
Dance it with me…Hold me tight…
Swirl me and twirl me.. I am what you are feeling against you…
a rotating energy that lights up your night.

You want to know me when I have my spark inside?
Dance and sing along… Crino-lin-lin-line

Is this not the music, the golden elixir we were waiting for?
To lift our souls from the shadow of the plague and sing our praises,
that we are still alive…
but weep openly and copiously our tears,
for those who no longer and never will again…dance by our side?

When Death comes to me, just let me die on this brass rift; lift me high as we all snake down the street led in some hybrid Tirana-Conga dance.
I go so happily all the way to my tomb, carried on this song,
as day’s end is descending, over the Adriatic Sea.

Karima Hoisan
May 23, 2021
Costa Rica

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The Spark

science-of-a-spark 2

The Spark

I lost the spark;
believe me, I had kept it forever
and one day…it wasn’t there anymore.

This spark started fires
when the icy winds blew in
It made all the faces glow,
even the ones who were dying
before my eyes.
Rosy cheeked they smiled at me,
while they were slipping away..
Ahh such a spark, only comes once.
It was given to me when I was young…
Such a gift A gift for a Lifetime!

My spark made music
when it was so dark not even
my hand could be found
in front of my face.
It sang me ahead, and I took each step,
knowing I was not being led astray.
Those moonless nights, the towering trees
that spark was a small beacon of sound;
each time I found myself in darkness…
I followed it to safety, fearlessly.

Crazy as it sounds,
that spark, early on,
was unknown even to me.
I took everything as a random
event, wandered through life,
without getting off my knees.
Then one day, in the most extraordinary way
It declared itself: I stood up
and people saw it in me,
like a lighthouse, my eyes turned from cynical
to wide awake and sparkling bright!

After that, I did live a pretty charmed life,
lucky in love and lucky to be alive.
So,I could never imagine the day,
my spark seemed to stay behind.
I lost it.
I had not thought about it,
over decades of familiarity.
If you take too much for granted,
it could start floating
out to sea.
I just felt this wave of dullness
one day, wash over me;
when I finally dared to check…
the spark, that I called mine,
was no longer with me.

Karima Hoisan
May 21, 2021
Costa Rica

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In Dreams

ea1c728bba743aeaca46b547352864c8 2“just like it was taught to me…”

In my dreams, I can run
and I run up unknown stairs, f
light after flight.

I talk to people in crowded city streets…
No one wears masks, and we have not yet had a plague.
People are in motion, hopefully making plans, breathing the air
which grows purer and less polluted while they talk and smile.
Depression is a thing of the past, as we all get out of ourselves
and help those around us. We begin to love to talk to strangers
and see them more like extended family, than unknowns.
There is no war, no killing, no misunderstandings; guns have not been invented.

In my dreams, of course I fly…not too high, but I taste the grace and freedom.
I happily teach others how to do it too… just like it was taught to me.
We all throw ourselves forward and we don’t hit the ground, but hover and ascend
We fly low, the wind blowing our hair, about the height of a stoplight.
The thing that really strikes me, is how we all giggle like a flock of parakeets.
We experience this euphoria together as we all let go and trust each other.
We trust this collective miracle that defies gravity and liberates our souls
still in our bodies, but less burdened and heavy, unencumbered and feather -weight.

Then I awake.

Karima Hoisan
May 18,2021
Costa Rica

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Eid Mubarak! Eid Sayeed!

From My House to Yours!

Good Eid1 2

Blessed Eid!  Happy Eid!
In Second Life, Come visit me the next 3 days!
Ask me for a teleport…and I will beam you up!

GoselaParty_007

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My Poem, “The Lightness of Ramadan” on Spillwords Press

Screen Shot 2021-05-11 at 10.58.20 AM

Hi everyone,
I know this poem recently appeared on my blog, but in a beautiful irony,
Spillwords decided to post it today, on the last or almost last day of Ramadan.
Eid -ul-fitr will begin, inshallah, tomorrow or Thursday and our month of fasting ends.

Thanks once again to Spillwords Press for accepting another one of my poems.
You can see it on their page,and if you chose, may give it a ❤️:)

Here is the url to read it on their press: https://spillwords.com/the-lightness-of-ramadan/

Ramadan Kareem! Ramadan Mubarak!

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