Saints are quiet in their mountaintops,
Trees are hardened ash,
Buildings have lost their colors,
Shrapnel rests in the garden,
Flags remain hoisted high, on steel poles made of bullets that struck down martyrs.
Droplets of debris,
Falling out of the hands of charity,
Have silenced the streets.
Friends have lost papers
Friends are looking for the dirt to rest in
Friends are wide-eyed in desperation and mute in person
-Maggots survive-
The procession moves forward
…
A publisher is prayed for by sanitizers
Journalists take dry notes
Musicians sip their beers awaiting French anthems
Painters find another shade of grey
A poet across the oceans laments over his foreign ink
The photographer flashes light over a private sight
A father sheds no tears over salted soil
…
The wooden box carved out of forgotten symbols is carried
To the spot where a teenager once envisioned eternity
Now enshrined with entropy,
Under words and numbers being eroded by whispers,
To a memory that never happened,
Beneath a tombstone being swallowed by the ground.
“The wooden box carved out of forgotten symbols is carried
To the spot where a teenager once envisioned eternity
Now enshrined with entropy,
Under words and numbers being eroded by whispers,
To a memory that never happened.”
Assem is a Lebanese poet who has been contributing to the Beirut poetry performance scene since the summer of 2011. 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” and the “Annahar” newpaper.
