A Sugary Morning

A Sugary Morning prose poem

Uploaded by Fareed K. Ghanem

Here is a sugary morning, but the rooster is still asleep. A dove with a bride’s dress is preparing to coo on a baked brick at the road from Damascus to Constantinople.
At a wall standing between two doors, there sits a black coffee waiting for showers of milk, in midway between two stars. Vague eyes blossom in the rock of the book. At the background, curtains are loosening buttons from buttonholes, one by one. Calmness recollects its fragments at a street which had been stabbed by noise. And here is the book, still open at astonishment, at more than one single sense and one single desire. Shamefaced air passes through the braid that is open to interpretations, thereafter fleeing away with a burden of frustrations. That is because time here is made of ice.

Rain falls, indifferently, behind the glass, to be broken down on the road’s mud. Persian old white horses pour their neighs inside tents of the Germanic tribes, while they defend Troy and the good name of Helen.

Julius Caesar beats Plato in the last free democratic elections. Gold of bracelets hide in two pockets.
And here, at this moment which is endless, sits a freezing fireplace, dreaming of a paradise fenced by embers.
Marble slides down from marble, so a tale inflames.

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Fareed K. Ghanem

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I am 58 years old, from eastern Galilee, Israel (Palestine). I studied English literature, psychology and Law at the Hebrew university (Jerusalem). In the last three years, I published three books of which is dedicated to prose poetry. You are invited to visit the Facebook page Shadows of Water, where I publish my prose poems I translate to English.
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