اشترِك في نشرتنا الإخبارية
This poem is part of Carpe Diem’s online submissions program and was selected for publication by the Carpe Diem team.
When it Rains
As it rains in my city
I think of many things
I think of stray dogs, cats, and beggar-kids
Of posters, flags, and banners of leaders and martyrs being chewed up and degraded
Of the still preserved graffiti on concrete walls
Of unattended graves, neighboring corpses, and plants being watered
Of school kids with superheroes and princesses on their umbrellas
Of their parents with black ones
-A flood of Umbrellas-
I think of vans and cabs
Cursing the surge in traffic
I think of small men
In big cars
Splashing bystanders
I think of those waiting
Outside the makeshift bakery
Hungry for cheap-oiled mankoushi
I think of the coming exploding springs from mountaintops
Of cigarette buds being washed down the drains
Of the couple seeking shelter
Of the need for new boots
Of underpaid construction workers
Of the 2 women…
Staying in the warmth of their bed
Putting life on hold
I think of the homeless under the bridges
Being cold, thankful, and spiteful
I think of my streets and their bars
Becoming cozier
I think of her
In her café
Drawing during her cigarette break
I think of the rodents
Drowning in the sewers
I think of my Mother cursing the cold
As my Father basks in it
I think of my city’s laments
As the countryside rejoices
I think of how the cigarette and drink
Become more alluring
I think of Noah, Gilgamesh, and their fears
Of Robert Plant and his prophetic warning of the Levee breaking
Of weather men’s excitement and weather women’s skirts
Of Charlie Chaplin’s tear
Of the playground’s emptiness
Of indoor childhood and homework
Of army men positioned and on patrol
Of patching up my old hobo trench coat
Of the war between pedestrians
Of the lack of Sun and Moon
Of pathetic fallacies and the coming Apocalypse
Of tumbling skyscrapers
Of acid
Of children inhaling chemicals
Of unattended trash-filled streets leaking into cribs
Of lawyer’s briefcase getting wet
I think of “Singing in the Rain”
By Kelly and Kubrick
I think
Of shivering bones and adrenaline
Of sickness and defying it
Of stubbornness and writing
I think of Billie Holiday
I think of the hundreds on their balconies
Shielded by their thick curtain and warm tea
I think of walking…
Till my feet tire
Till my back aches
Till I am drenched and no longer thirsty
I think of being alive.
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Assem Bazzi is a Lebanese poet who has been contributing to the Beirut poetry performance scene since the summer of 2011. Apart from performing in street corners, local bars and the occasional theater stages, he has participated in numerous poetry performance events including ones curated by The Poetry Pot, Poetic License, and Haven for Artists. Bazzi is also a founding member of el-Yafta poetry circle. He has contributed to the literary travel guide book “Beirut Guide for Beirutis” and has published his poetry in the literary and art journal “Rusted Radishes”.
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Welcome to Carpe Diem, Annahar's new literary section featuring poetry- old and new, published or hidden within the nooks of unveiled pages of Lebanese writers. We welcome all contributions with the caveat that the section hopes to see rawness and authenticity in thought and emotion. Please send inquiries to Carpe Diem editor [email protected]
