Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Bob Marcacci

highlights from the hotel
of the glamorous
no especificado
in case you missed it
Doha will go head to head
with the wanderers
in Barcelona

the first falcon partnership
formally joined
en todo el mundo
inhabitants of epicenters
sparkling by the crystal
match handpicked brands
shukran



***


New Year's Ghazal

What Putignanese petulance, what ambulatory thing
With all its stories and parlance, what year's end cling

Do you suffer in this old country waiting for permanence?
What cause and commencement, what's left? Ring

In the resolutions! Hallelujah ablutions and blech!
What cold breath of light touches a moment fingering

Dogs startled to bark across the black hills
At midnight or thereafter? What oblong wing

Or wood was, what moon blinks in answer? What cancer
Calls you to attend what you brightly bring?



***


(co-authored by Asmaa Al-Qaysi)

Unable to see her highness Sheikha Mozah's face as she ascended.
Brush strokes of layered blue and green lit the shapes up upon a canvas.

We never found the noodle restaurant that we read about on the internet.
Faces, places, laughter, song, fade in a spell of ink music.

A day at home every once in a while is a much needed luxury.
Sleep is stronger than other intentions.

Not even three cups of coffee can keep me awake.
Meet again beneath the great grey sidra.

Detangle thoughts, remember conversations as I lull myself to sleep.
Falcon's blind gaze follows me.

Lights outside wink through the curtain, tiny gold and silver plusses.
If treadmills could talk, I might enjoy the walk.

I do not talk, count pulse, speed, distance. She does not see communication.
Despite Arabic advances earlier, lose the evening to travel arrangements.

White-winged words alight haikus.
Exhausted, restless 2AM wake up with TV.

Words, grey shadows on leaves of dead trees.
Weakly, carry miscommunication of a long week toward lessening weekend.

Take time. Look! Life, bigger, stronger, inspire.
A wife, a child, a mild heartache, a wanderlust, a brevity.

Time, a road, I stop, afraid.
Sucker for grammar late into Qatar narrative.

Perfect imperfection, infinitely human.
A pair of shoes, a puppet show, a percentage.

Stared death in the eyes, roundabout.
Fool's rush fatherly flush with four-year-old foolheart.

Slow down, yawn, blue blanket on a sofa.
Force toward wordy. Not even hot air makes it out.

Dreams drug, numb, blind, lead, breed. No end.
Calypso casual with colleagues at Katara Costa Rican culture.

Kids playing, pizza, talking, laughter. I, quiet, detached.
Quiz jazz and the autumn ABP after-hours collection.

Blue fish, red fish. Slowly, jigsaw pieces find themselves complete, whole.
Indecision over that or this miss or hit; oh s@#*!

Partly completed to do list. Who said all must be done?
Djembe drum circle destiny heartbeat hear me.



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