When The Poem Arrives…

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When The Poem Arrives

I have felt it coming for days..
and  yet…
not a word has been put down,
because it’s still on its way.
Whatever it is,
my muse wants to say,

there is no hurrying that,
or rushing to the end.
No, I am the spectator here,
wondering when it will begin,
wondering when I will be called in..
to just serve as the
stenographer,
the photographer,
the willing midwife to a verse
that wants to be born,
wants to set those thoughts down
in ink and print,
in rhythm and rhyme .
I’m so ready for…
when the poem arrives.

Whatever is needed of me.
I’m here, I will do it;
just knock and let me know.
I’m in the other room,
but aware that, when it’s my turn,
when my time has come,
to scribble it out
and save it before it fades…
I am ready, to open wide the door.
I am always ready…but patient,
as these moments can’t be arranged
are not in my control.
When a poem is coming ..
stop thinking, stop pondering
It’s not important what might be written.
I just know,
it will flow through me, when it gets here.,
and in the end,
it will be just want I wanted to say.

I am the lover bathed and perfumed,
because when it arrives at my door,
when it knocks, I come running..
the loving poet here and now,
to attend all its needs.
I make sure this thought is not lost,
on some foggy side road,
lost in the trivia of eat , work and sleep.
I give it a candle-light welcome,
arms stretched out to receive
and then…take it by the hand
roll it through my mind until my fingers dance
and write it all down from
that special focused place, of poetry and trance….
because, when the poem arrives…
I am always ready.

Karima Hoisan
December 14, 2020
Costa Rica

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Surfacing

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Surfacing
for Umahmad

The ducks caught your attention
As you strode to the lake shore, bubbling angry energy.
It was like they caught each strife and slowly turned them into grace.
The breeze hit our faces, all the ducks looked only to you
and you sat down, while I slipped bread into your hand.
“Feed them. They are always hungry. They will be yours for a sunset.”

Breaking off little portions, you threw them methodically, trying to be fair,
while I laid on your knee and counted Texas cotton balls stitched to blue sky.
There was that incredible moment of lucidity, when you were just normal,
shining seconds everyone hopes for in your life, but hardly ever sees.
I knew I was in the eye of the miracle when you turned to look at me,
“I’m so sorry if I have caused you pain. There is something going on inside
of me but I feel soon, I will be myself again”

The clouds held my gaze, while I held my breath
You held my head propped and melded to your leg like an after -thought,
like Siamese twins joined by the knee and head,
something so rare, a picture would be in order, if we had brought a camera.
I said thank you to that Messenger that spoke out of your lips…
and let my tears flow into the lake, some blessed ducks called home.

Karima Hoisan
July 17, 2010
Lake Arlington Texas

*Preface My soulmate, Umahmad, was diagnosed with Paranoid Schizophrenia in 2007.
She was only in her 30’s, we were living in Jordan and it progressed quickly.  She had made applications for her and her 4 children to be refugees in Texas, before she became gravely ill. Her prayers were answered in 2010, but she was almost not lucid enough to even know where she was going, yet she left Jordan with 4 young children (the oldest was maybe 19, to start a new life.
The children asked me to please come to Texas where they were relocated and help them with English and ..well everything. I did and in the 4 months I was there with them, I only saw her lucid one time.. where she knew who I was…who she was. This moment you just read…I tried to capture in the poem.

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More About The Poet

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More About The Poet

Now you know a bit more about this poet….

I have a cat and a black piano, a piano and cat are part of me.
Both are important for my soul, for my need to touch, to create and love,
to pull myself out of me and lift off into a kinder realm,
where all cats are taken care of and pianos are played by people who love them,
Both need care and both reward me, for remembering..
My cat sits above me, feeling the vibrations of the keys,
lightly touched or stroked deeply,
her purrs adjust to the sounds, as the photos on the mantle shudder.
We are approaching a harmony, the kind where her purrs resonate
and the keys respond to every wave and we are riding it now,
a wave of sound and soft fur, and inspiration, and just to hold it this way,
I slow the pace and lighten the line and pianissimo is now her yawn.
The reassuring pedal sustains, the loveliest phrases, my cat closes her eyes.
My well- fed cat, allows herself to doze off to a well-tuned piano,
as I play the last note and she falls sound asleep.
Now, this exact moment, where we connected; this moment…
is what happiness is for me.

Karima Hoisan
December 5, 2020
Costa Rica

 

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Thank You To Spillwords Press For Accepting My 2nd Poem, “Coming Up From The Dead,” For Publication

Spillwords.com-Logo 2

Hi everyone,
just want to share with you, that another poem I submitted to Spillwords.com was accepted and published November 29, 2020. I posted this poem just last month here in my blog, “Coming Up From The Dead.” I was not permitted to write a dedication or explanation, but this poem, speaks of our beloved Corcovado National Park in Costa Rica, and exalts the experience of seeing flocks of wild macaws flying free.
I invite you to visit or re-visit the poem again on their site and if you deem it worthy,
Click on a little tiny heart and give it a love:)❤️
Here’s the link: https://spillwords.com/coming-up-from-the-dead/
Peace,
Karima

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Recap and Recording of Circe’s Poetry Reading 11/28/2020

Hello everyone,
I am putting the link to hear the recording from my reading last night.
I did give a shout-out to a few WordPress friends, who expressed interest in hearing it.:)
Click HERE to listen. You can download it or stream it on your browser.
There were about 25 people people, who sat on mushrooms or the ground and
I think everyone really enjoyed it. People comment in local chat, and from the comments they looked like they did:)
Here are a few pictures to give you an idea.  I hope you enjoy listening to what I do in Second Life!  I read a lot of my most recent poems but to carefully chosen music for each. Enjoy !!
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Two Poems for Umahmad

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Mated Beauty
For Umahmad
 
 
In your arms, my pain meets a higher call
To transform obediently tonight
Into a funny child with laughing eyes
Who glows over the room with gentle light.
 
The gifts we get are measured and beloved,
The Writer of our book knows just the time
To leave a present when we ache too much;
A healing salve to cure a soul sublime.
 
So lie beside me, hear the morning call.
Our prayers today beginning side by side,
Before we rise to give our thanks on knees,
Tell me you feel our destiny’s still tied.
 
I kiss you, not with a lover’s passion,
But from a deeper need that lies here, too.
The search for that one soul to bind entwined
My mated beauty, you and only you! 

**********************************

If I Should Write A Love Poem
(With Threads of Gold)
For Umahmad
 
If I should write one poem of my love
To you, it would be wrapped in threads of gold,
For you have been the treasure of my life,
Singular piece released from Allah’s hold.
 
Words stammer not, but flow like sacred prayer.
In golden threads of spider’s web I cling,
The intricacies of our lover’s tale
Trap me above all lesser mundane things.
 
Your aura glows around your raven hair;
Our bodies glide, the straight path we do choose,
As evening light leaves golden threads behind
We bow, and pray our course to never lose.
 
You are for me my purest loving truth,
Golden threads tied to our souls do bind.
Our love affair, uncommon though it be,
Has lasted when all others fell behind.
 
How subtle and sublime this feels to me,
Love bound in threads of gold, eternally.

Karima Hoisan
Jordan 2004

 

 

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Karima Reads Her Poetry@Circe’s Saturday-Nov. 28th-6pm SLT

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Hi everyone,
I will be reading at Circe’s New Poets Sanctuary, this coming Saturday at 6 pm SLT.
It’s been over a year since I read there, as you might recall I was a vampire last time:)
 See Post 
I am really looking forward to being back and I have been a busy bee poet in lock-down,
so I have all new, never- performed -in- public, poems to share with you all, plus..lots of great music behind, as I stream for an hour at the relaxing venue at Circe’s.

Please join me and I promise to give you an entertaining hour of all originals, set to awesome music, that I have been hand picking for months.
Here’s your Virtual taxi to whisk you to a toadstool: Landmark for Circe’s
If you are a WordPress friend and don’t feel like the idea of making an avatar and going virtual, please send me a  comment and I will let you know, how you can hear it live as a podcast on your web browser in the comfort of your real life:)

For those of you in-world, come early at 5pm SLT to hear and be part of the Open Mic section, where you can read one of your own. I am the featured poet and will begin at 6pm sharp! I am really looking forward to being back!
Join me! I would love to see you there.
*Note…SLT is the same time as, Pacific Daylight Time (PDT)

Love,
Karima

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Cha Cha Cha

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Cha Cha Cha

Good music,
good birds
good trees;
today…it’s enough for me.
The light changing
on the leaves,
the sun and shadows
painting evolving scenes.
I’m falling in love,
one more time
with Life.

Only Life,
can make me revisit

the possibility
of going back on
my forward track…
to grab it by the hand…
cha cha cha
and love it again.

The breeze,
is dancing
with the trees;

magic is in the air.
The birds
begin to slip into
a line-dance,
beaks full of fruit.
How they move
to the beat,
played loudly
,
from my window…

cha cha cha
their light steps
are perfection.

And when
they disperse;
exactly timed,
in a swoosh
they retreat,

synchronized
in the air.
They have
built- in scatter,
as in unison,
they fall back
to the edge
of the trees,
obeying,
a silent whistle,
to run away,
fly far, get out,
disband,
disappear…
just in case.

Then one by one,
they’re re- joining
the dance again.

Line up… grab a bite…
cha cha cha
while the music
plays on and on.

Karima Hoisan
21, November 2020
Costa Rica

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Your Movie

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Your Movie
For U

It seems I’m still not over you
not the way I wanted to,
immune to white sheer curtains blowing,
on warm night winds of memory

I no longer sail to where it hurts,
but seeing your face negates efforts,
you’re tucked away in my camera,
that one time captured us.

So I charge up the battery,
curious as to what I’ll see,
hoping and yet fearing this to be
the tape I thought I’d surely lost.

Then there you are so tall and smart,
Feigned shyness as you fix your scarf,
“Don’t rob me of my modesty,” you say,
“To show someone this tape would be a wrong.”

I look to your betraying eyes
The ones that brought me tears and lies
The ones that said “I love you”
Then left forever, without saying goodbye.

No indiscretions can be seen
Upon our cozy bedroom scene,
We look to be the best of friends
Two loving souls dissolving into one

The camera saw not everything
Some scenes cut from self-censoring,
But sadly now what I do see,
Was my utter joy to just be in your movie.

Karima Hoisan
Oct. 23, 2004
Karak, Jordan

*An older one from a long time ago…..

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Hope is a Butterfly

Painting Hope- Rachel Steely

Painting Hope by Rachel Steely

Hope is a butterfly
that flies inside.
Somewhere,
between our panic
and our euphoria,

it circles our heart,
soars high in the middle,
and stays part of us,
while it wings and glides.

We know if it gets lost,
in too much past thinking
or future soothsaying;
It will be so hard to rescue,
so hard to find and pull it back,
if we really lose it altogether.

What are we without hope?
What is hope without us?
If we set it adrift to float aimlessly,
it gets dashed upon the rocky shores
and that’s it; it’s shattered, tattered, lost.
It can be just a thought away,
but even that seems too far,
and we grow tired and unbelieving.

My butterfly,
I want to clothe you
and keep you safe,
decorate you in my finest
air- thin velvet
and weightless pearls of wisdom.
Remember that hope,
can be stronger than oak beams
and I can make my plans come true…
with you.
Or I can shatter in disappointment,
because I forgot you can be as fragile
as blown glass; and in the end,
keeping you safe,
is partly up to me.

How many times, in my lifetime
did I think I had lost you forever?
You were just some tail-lights receding,
the surf behind a boat forever leaving;
I could barely remember how it felt
to have you inside of me,
circling my heart, flying between,
the panic and the euphoria
always reminding me….
that the next day could be better.

Karima Hoisan
Nov. 15, 2020
Costa Rica

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