The Battle Of The Words

The Battle Of The Words

الخَيْلُ وَاللّيْلُ وَالبَيْداءُ تَعرِفُني         وَالسّيف وَالرّمحُ والقرْطاسُ وَالقَلَمُ

The desert knows me well, the night, the mounted men,

The battle and the sword, the paper and the pen.

- Al-Mutanabbi to Sayf ad-Dawla

***

Sanddune ripples, 
air tears through sand.

Paralyzed
     desk waves in oak patterns
     pen pierces swelled surface 
     in desperate hope for inspiration

Gallop resonates:
     his court
     his caravan
     my pen his sword
     my words not mine
I write his life

5, 6, 7, 8
     lift, blow
     scratch, tear
     plié, fold 
     this empty paper in 4

The saddle bag
The back pack
Sails the desert through waves
     too far to remember
     or falsely related to distorted time dimensions,
     simmered mirages

Reach up, make the words
     land on my hand

5, 6, 7, 8
jam...
(What is home anyway but a bunch of false memories)

***

June 26, 2017 

Copyright © Darren White