I tried to stuff with actions, with activity,

I tried to get out you of the bed with positivity,

I tried to run from you with books and overthinking,

But what have you to say, young king ?

What have you to say, saviour of agitation,

Who ´s not attached but with passion ?

Lady Swan calls you resistance,

The holy church called you acedia,

What if, handsome soldier of the nothingness,

I now take the time to listen to your soft weight impeding me to run to my doom ?

What if you were the one keeping the keys of the secret of being ?

What if you were the only one among emotions to have the secret of action,

The secret of passion.

Instead of running out of your call,

I now take the time to listen to silent music,

To you soft joy

And to you beautiful secrets.

« Take your time, young king. » what was you, my Lady, whispered to my ears.

« Go to sleep, young god. » what was you, beloved holy mother, imposed with authority to my body.

Half awake and half asleep, life takes the shape of poetry and thought forms are not reached in the only sleep anymore.

Dear Ladies, you love me in my lazyness,

Which take the time the unfold the secrets of my brain, the love of my heart, and the strength of arms and legs.

 

The Mad Arab

Dear anger I have so many times try to run from you,

So many times have I tried to make you disappear,

So many times have I tried to spit on you,

In order to shut down your burning and your pierce.

 

What if, old enemy, now that I found the bellows inside me,

We become friend without acrimony

What if, new friend, each time you call the door of my soul,

I open it all for you and your burning fire,

You, master of justice, that helps me get out of my hole,

Counsellor of tyrans and judges, inside my council, you I hire !

Without you I get out of my whole !

 

The Mad Arab

Long have I hunted you to choke you into silence,

Long have I tried to make you disappear in the shadows of my presence,

What have you to tell me ?

What is the secret you have to unveil about me ?

 

Old ghost, that haunted my inner child,

I thought you were no more than a bad mild,

But now I see clear in your missive,

More than often deceptive.

 

Long my anger has belonged only to my down earth father,

And now that anger came into my council aside with my Holy Mother,

I see clear that you are the feeling miself has to carry in his childhood.

How many dragons have I slaughtered in the wood,

How many starships have I build in the silence,

When the harshness of this world was unbreakable,

When my cries weren’t able to soften my own absence,

Now I know what you came for, beautiful cable,

The messenger of my childhood you are and my lonesome cries,

My only victories against this world,

Will never fade, inner child, until I die,

Even if it should make me beaten by the crowd !

 

The Mad Arab

Long enough have you haunted me like a heavy ghost,

Long enough have I resisted you through the hell of the modern world

Now I don’t want to be your host

And may I, Lord, letting you go by these words.

 

You infested my flesh, you cracked my bones

I carried you in the oceans of madness in secrecy

Believing you were here to test my faith

And you were dear pain testing my commitment to my purpose,

When your weighted burden soften in cries and tears,

It is my proudest victory against the brutality of this world.

 

The Mad Arab

Sometimes when I am alone 

Sometimes when I am with people,

I can feel you, mysterious emotion, burning through my flesh,

I don’t know what you are but you seem to be yellow,

And I can’t wait to have your truth in my mind when I ´ll be able,

You began to come in my legs

And now I can feel you in my shoulders,

Probably the good sign of your truth spreading through my body,

You must be some angers,

Buried in my mind who shall become holy

When your sacred fire will come to my conscious mind.

You didn’t come to my face, mother of the phenix,

And I still in my egg am, only feeling your burning through my shell.

Tell me yellow fire, holy anger how is the world outside ?

Will you protect me from his injustice after having burning flesh to make a new man ?

 

The Mad Arab

It’s hard to talk to you all at the same time,

And sometimes I feel like time is about to rewind.

What about talking each one at a time,

In order for me to shape my mind ?

 

How are made resistances I want to know

Because often your strenghts my mind blow,

Are you splits inside my soul,

Preventing me to act by going to the wrong maul,

Hitting you like you were a wall,

Is not the right strategy, I remember the last time of my fall.

 

You are strong, resistances, I fell you in my flesh and bones,

You seems to made of some stones …

But where do they come from these rigid which my face sometimes turn into pain ?

Dear resistances, you have no fame,

But you should since you ´ re driving me insane.

So many things you impede to do.

Sometimes I want too bad to go for it,

But asking the why I should, as my Lady does speak.

 

« Are you only some childhood traumas ? » my ambition asks.

My humility answers : « Yes and you should go for the task,

To embrace all the aspects of yourself,

Even the more unwanted that you forget ! »

 

The Mad Arab

 

Down, deep, once the cliff of every hope has been jumped

There is a light of ice and snow that burns every dream of power

A dark and cold light that gives its light to every moon of the earth.

Falling down in the abyss is something that have a cost

And most of us, from which the secret is known, are then unable to speak.

We decide to go in the secret of the crowd where there is no risk to be elevated again.

Failing, again and again, and keeping silence where words disappear, where silence is the only king.

That is my way now.

 

The Mad Arab

Sometimes you come to me like a leisure,

You show me the secret of the desire of women,

And why they are so keen on showing with pleasure,

What drives us crazy as men.

 

Thank you, dear lust, to expose to me the secrets of women’s beauty,

When they are hair are straight or wavy,

You see the calmness of a nurturer or the joy of this intriguing creature.

When their dresses are short, you see the harmony of their legs,

When their jeans are stretched, you see the geometry of luxure,

 

Popping is my inner child out of his egg,

Discovering that there is no sin in watching beauty in a woman,

And feeling how much promises of happyness there is in one woman’s smile,

And how much love there is in one woman’s eye.

These eyes can cry like a child of joy and sadness,

But, woman, how can you keep it so much together?

How can you be queen and warrior, mother and whore,

Moving constantly with so much sameness?

This is your secret, dear lust, and I won’t try to break it into pieces,

Only singing sometimes for what I feel as Godesses.

The Mad Arab

Long I have tried to run from you by being humble,

Long have I tried to destroy myself in the rope they made out of me,

Long have I tried to loose my self in your jungle.

Today is the day to say no more.

Today is the day to straight my head when comes the infamy,

Today is the day where I break the chains of the warior.

 

What is proudness asks the child inside me?

 

And the priest says :

It is the force of deciding what you will be.

 

And the alchemist says : 

Play with the words, young god,

The world has been made for you to grow,

Don’t cut yourself thinking you are fighting your shadow,

 

And the sorcerer says :

Embrace it,

when the moment is bringing it,

Don’t forget to shift,

The words you use as gift,

When the moment requires it.

 

And the Lady says :

When you feel the chaos inside you,

When everything is crumbling down,

Remember that near is the breakthrough,

To grow has yourself and being on your own.

 

The Mad Arab