November 26, 2020: Untitled

It’s the need to say something
that makes me want to write.

However, the need to say something
doesn’t necessarily mean that I have anything to say.
It’s been almost a year since I last produced a piece —
a short story — that I thought was good.

Since March, my mind has been deteriorating.
I have been deteriorating.

It hasn’t been a good year, and it all started late last year.
A pseudo-revolution in Lebanon back in October 2019.
I believed in it and was part of it,
but it turned out to be nothing but noise!
Then, as 2020 began, Lebanon defaulted on its debts.
Covid-19 became a pandemic soon after.
Beirut’s port exploded on August 4.
The Nagorno-Karabakh war began on September 27
and ended on November 10 with Armenia losing.
Yes, a bad year for the world,
a horrible year for a Lebanese-Armenian like me.

Then, last Wednesday, on November 18, my grandmother died,
and we buried her where we had buried
my father and my grandfather less than two years ago.

And here I am at my desk now,
trying to work,
to live a normal life.

I want to write about something, and there are
so many things to write about.
But I have nothing to say.
Yet.

My question is:
How can I get rid of this brain fog?
It came once and never left.

I Am Not the Devil but I Bring Hell

THE BOY’S THE PRAYER

1.

The smile his chapped lips tried to keep
Was not supposed to last so long…
For years and years, he swallowed tears
Until one night, he said: “No more.”

2.

“In heaven you are born
Maker of the underworld
In hell you burn
In hell’s your throne

The god of fire
Bringer of light
Black is your color
You king of the night!

I’m calling you, now
So answer my prayers
Because the Good One
He never listens.

3.

Justice walks with the devil!”

***

MEPHISTO’S MONOLOGUE

1.

“Last time I walked this earth, things were different.
Now, the news spreads quickly and that might work against me.
Yet again, I never walked as a man;
That’s why I’m tempted.

You summon me now and ask for my help.
You offer me not just your soul but your body as well.
Vengeance, I suppose. I assume you want revenge,
Yearning for a thousand souls to burn with you in hell…

You must love me, boy
Or you must hate them all
To bless me with this gift
And curse them and yourself, forevermore.”

2.

“The world is not beautiful, nor is the universe, nor is man.
Imperfection is everywhere – it permeates; man!
Everything is flawed, lacking, pretty darn defective.
But the Good Almighty King saw that it was good!

Tell me, son,
What’s so satisfying about this blue tomato?
And what of the big black mysterious balloon?
And the naked monkey who claims to be wise?

There was work to be done on the seventh day,
Believe me,
But what a procrastinator is your creator!
For instead he went to rest;
Tell me, how can he be the best?

Most of the good things are man-made.

3.

“But!” They say, those of faith, blindly
The Great One knows, unquestionably
Surely, He must have a plan!
It’s a sin to think that He made a mistake.
Wait! No!
I’ll tell you what sin is, priest!
I say…
Man!

Man is God’s sin.

4.

“Tell me,
Why should you be laughed at and kicked around?
And some pity you. “Poor you!” they say.
Say, when’s the last time they’ve offered you help?
Boy, like a dog, they shooed you away.

I’m glad, however, that you’re now aware
To make them suffer is only fair.
I am, boy, the one who cares
Maybe evil but your only friend –

Oh, I tell you, my boy
This is going to be fun.
Just wait and see…

6.

Justice walks with the devil!
So, what have we got to settle?”

***

SOMETHING EVIL IS ON ITS WAY

1.

It was just another night on Hamra Street,
But things were about to change, alright!
Death! Hell! Fire and flames!
The Devil wants to play a game.

Boys and girls were at the bars
Successful men sucking cigars
What a life! Look at those stars!
Fun, eh? And classy cars.

“So, come inside; and drink and dance!”
“Live your life, man. This is your chance.”
“I’m so glad to be here with all my friends.”
“I wish this fine night never ends.”

2.

There was a stench now on Hamra Street
The smell of sulfur and of something sweet
Death! Hell! Fire and flames!
The Devil wants to play a game.

The ground shook, the music stopped
and the lights were out…
There was silence, and now it was dark
Something cold and wicked laughed.

The sinister cackle echoed in the street;
Evil in the atmosphere…

Hell! Death!

Justice walks with

Fire.

3.

Meanwhile, (screeching sounds)
Silver-black rats from hell
With red, hellish eyes
Were digging their way up
To feast on –

 ***

RETRIBUTION

1.

Fire! Fire!
The world’s on fire!

2.

The street, now, was swarming with rats and fiends;
Beasts and demons and other gruesome creatures.
People squealing! Begging! Crying for mercy!
Screams filled the air.

“No! Please! No!”

“My eyes! My eyes!”

“Oh, God!”

“Don’t kill me, please-don’t-kill-me!”

And the poor boy who wanted revenge,
Now possessed by the devil,
Was laughing,
And his cold and wicked laughter echoed.

3.

Robert who had once laughed at a boy
A poor boy selling roses,
Ran until he tripped and fell.
A hairless, pig-faced, apelike creature (spider legs for fingers)
Came snorting, sniggering
Plucked Robert’s eyeballs out
And heartily chewed on them…

4.

Sarah who had once pitied a boy
A poor boy selling roses,
Was tangled up, caught in a spider web.
Something bit her between her thighs
And ate its way inside her.
Screams of pain, but more rats came
And ate her from the inside.

5.

“I am not the devil,”
The boy said to the good man,
“But I bring hell.”

 ***

EPILOGUE

Morning came and the boy woke up
As if from a vivid dream.
He found himself in nature,
In his mother’s womb,
Next to the river, Nahr Ibrahim
A boar killed the god of love and beauty here…

Blood in the river!

The boy was thirsty.

He drank from the river and the river was dry.


I drafted this poem in 2011-2012. I revisited it in 2015 and that is the version found above. “I Am Not the Devil but I Bring Hell” was also published on my older blogs.

A Stroll in Geitawi

Taking a stroll in Geitawi — July 8, 2020

Whatever isn’t supposed to happen
happens
here.

Darkness is heavy.
Darkness is so heavy.

My footsteps are louder than the night.
My future is as dark as
tonight.

The moon keeps hiding behind
thick clouds. It isn’t
romantic.
It’s just the silver eye of a cowardly god
peeping in.

Beirut can’t afford a good night.
Beirut can’t afford light.

My footsteps are louder than the night.
I can’t hear
my brothers and sisters crying.