My Home
Take my life
Shattered strife
Take my heart
Thunders apart
Miseries Unplanned
Agonising soils land
Displaced devise
Hierarchies rolling dice
Outsiders covet lives
“For peace, for peace” strives
Smoke skies, grounds rubble
Destruction embrace troubles
Catching tears, heavens fall
Silent screams, abhorred
Maim bodies abound
Today’s…tomorrows frown
Sitting the stand
Wailing land
Fear, my neighbour
Bombs in favour
No home I own
Nations I roam
Hearts pain forsaken
Wrestling thoughts awaken
Pleading desperations wail
Forceful exploitations, frail
Tears my food, alone
Broken, I wonder..”Where’s home?”
Salwa Samra ©
Author, Poet, Writer and Investigative Researcher
#Australia
Above…
Cup your hands
Carefully catch my tears
Don’t allow them to land
Among hidden, unknown fears
Reach out to hold
My body trembles
Break words through folds
Mind wrestles and crumbles
Time steers in slow motion
The future peddles uncertainty
Fears cover hearts lotion
Loneliness closes nights curtain
Misunderstood in a world disconnected
Defiant to comply at societies knees
No individual is welcomed, nor connected
Refusing to rely on opinions decrees
Empty of self, rejected and shamed
Accusations wings fly high
Fierce to withstand wrongful claims
Courage determination is dangers cry
In a world shouting wrongfully
Designating bad to appear good
Cries of justice hated, shaped rightfully
Sorrow stands tall though division stood
The multitudes anger at righteousness
The righteous stripped naked at defence
Confusion attempts to malign goodness
In a world downside up, will justice commence?
Afar off I hear….Above, above, above….
Above all, One understood harrowing’s state
Above all, One lived through the mire of humanities traits
Above all, One came to die for humanities sake
Above all, One felt all, willingly, taking humanities bait
Woman
Hair unfolds to reach her backline
skin quite fair, time only defines
Lashes flutter the unspoken feelings
Lips, red as wine, kisses in healing
Hips embrace many chronicled crosses
legs strode with foretelling losses
Shoulders housed many a tears
feminine echoes calming hidden fears
Nails delicately painted on fingers that mend
perfume softly sprayed while children to attend
Toes to match in colour on feet that dance
swaying to jazzy music, decisions at chance
Touch her heart, she will feed your soul
Entrust her with life, she will embrace it whole
Speak to her in words of whispered heights
she will respond with unguarded, warm delights
Lead her by the hand to capture her dreams
hold her in your arms through ruptured screams
Seat her to sit upon your dearest plans
free her to fly, assuring you are her man
Breathe in her scent, its womanly fragrance
enjoy her moves, her ladylike trance
Allow her touch to taste your flavour
knowing her loyalty is in your favour
Love her perfectly, she will share her uniqueness
honour entirely without a moment to miss
Nevet losing each others individual existence
trust yourself in her womanly persistence.
Salwa Samra © 2012
All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited.
Your Ultimate Design
Waves fold bowing before You
Trees arms sway in salutations truth
Colours of flowers perfume their fragrance upward
Greenery foliage your creation in perfections good
Birds sing in orchestrated song single praise
Sunshine warms to worship in the exaltations gaze
Evening adorns for You the moons entrance
Stars sparkle from Your cosmos at adorations ambiance
Skies of blue resound Your announcements
Waterfalls roaring at Your Holy presence
Mankind are stilled in prayer’s reverence
Creations choir cheer at Your artistic preference
Earth was birthed from Your words of pleasure
Seas aloud greet Your majestic measure
Sands of the shore too numerous to count
You clothed them with a boundary from whence they amount
Love is your ultimate designed destination
For loss you gained multitudes of generations
You hold the universe in your compassionate hands
For Your holiness and beauty none can withstand
Salwa Samra © 2024
All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited.
Who Will…?
Who will hear the childrens cry
Who will care for their hearts sigh
Who feels the pain of bombs destroying their play
Who looks upon the theft of their childhood display
Who will hold their hand from the fear of wars sounds
Who will keep them in air screams of missiles profound
Who will wipe the tears off their faces streak
Who will comfort their souls from warring freaks
Who will calm the childrens fear of todays horrors
Who will console them from evil sorrows
Who will bring them back to innocence space
Who will help these little ones future trace
Will you explain the injustice of losing their loved ones
Will you raise a voice for their weeping sons
Will you consider the trauma echoed in their voice
Will you sob at their broken hearts moist
Will you wash their clothes splattered in blood
Will you carry their souls tearing flood
Will you give them hope to pursue life
Will you extend mercy for their strife
Who will shout out for the childrens suffering
Will you, will you stand for their broken mutterings
Terror, horror, sorrow, orphans, warfares torment
At the feet and play of the childrens doorstep.
Salwa Samra © 2023
All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited.
Little Old Lady
There was a little lady
She was a wee bit shady
She liked to spend her penny’s
On unnessary thingy’s
There was this little lady
She may have seemed crazy
Oh how she squandered
Used people who wondered
There was this little lady
Don’t mistake her for hazy
She knew her game well
To prey on people and tell
There was this little lady
Age mattered not to her lazy
Lazy to make of her own
Rather she’d steal, seek sympathy and moan
There was this little lady
Be careful, watch out for her, daily
She is master at manipulation
She is queen of masquerading
Salwa Samra © 2021
All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited.
The Cedar Tree
In my youth I rested under the arms of your branches
Beneath the scent of your perfume none matches
Your aromatic bouquet comforted me from ashes
Though I heard the sounds of wailing unanswered
The echoes of bombs firing furiously
The children gathered in silence, inferiorly
You stood in stature, covering me mysteriously
Ancient civilizations imported you materially
Carving ships, houses and palaces defined
Circumcision and leprosy applied you enshrined
Foreign leaders tendered you in gesture consigned
Centered of our, honoured proudly assigned
Revered on our Coat of Arms gleaming
Virgins cleave to your forestry dreaming
Accolades in the Bible, paying homage, esteeming
Pleasure you create in hearts expecting
Arz el-Rab you are decreed to be
Shading our country with your topography
Fleets of the sea you accompanied granderously
Splendour of greenery on high grounds jubilee
Finery of branches and forest shadows guaranteed
Skins of timber delicately fashioned agreeably
Green your conifer reaching out favourably
In abundant grandeur there stands the Cedar Tree.
Salwa Samra © 2016
All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited.
Author - Poet - Writer
The Bus
She caught the bus to the train station. She had a desire. The desire she was fighting while on the bus.
Destination: Train station.
Objective: Suicide.
It’s happened before, her friend died only last week. Life support switched off. She hung herself.
She was on the bus. Myself and a lady from England, a precious lady were both talking to her. So concerned. Myself in a different State, this other lady in a different country, both trying to stop death.
She arrived at the train station. She showed evidence of her being there through a photo. This is what many people, families and individuals deal with.
This is what myself and a lady from England dealt with a few nights ago. This is many people’s reality, while many of us snuggle up in our comfortable homes.
Torment. Fighting the urge to die. Fighting the will to live. Dealing with an illness that robs her from living.
This time our encouragement, listening ears, pleading and highlighting how precious and valuable she is caused her to catch another bus. A bus back home.
This time.
I could rest. I could sleep.
This time.
Please take a good look and listen to people. You just don’t know until you know.
Remain to Remember
When water cascades atop the waterfall
When daylight folds its sky to night
When waves of the ocean raise the seas
Will you remember to remember me?
When night's curtains are pulled to daylight
When birds orchestrate their songs to dawn
When mountain reach their final peak
Will you remember to remember me?
When the stars canvas shines its blush
When deceit impersonates truth
When tears scorn the lashes sorrowfully
Will you remember to remember me?
When my hand is cold at your touch
When my heart guards itself from you
When my body settles to reject your decree
Will you remain in remembering me?
Salwa Samra © 2017
All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited.
Middle Man
Have you met the man in the middle?
He's a very upstanding sitting man.
He'll play the flute from drum tunes.
He'll run in walking over lofty dunes.
Have you met the man in the middle?
He triumphs over failing faults.
He dances, still, out of tune.
He frees freedom to doom.
Have you met the man in the middle?
He's lukewarm in his hot temper.
He's dazzling in his frightful state.
He's crazy at ease with hysteria.
Have you met this man?
This man in the middle?