No Laughter in Houla

Laughter what is it worth
if it does not ride the eternal tide of joy

What is calm and contentment worth
if they are not sated by the taste
of universal peace

In Houla, tiny toads cannot be heard croaking
after a refreshing early morning rain
by the tiny ears of buried carcasses

Avian songs cannot be heard
from the raining of hell bombs falling
on Syrian streets by Bashar Asaad’s regime

This morning, here, we will watch
tiny earth worms crawling out
after a much needed rain

hearing a choir of our friends
in joyous song in our early morning rise,
morph voices, the children of Houla

Love Me When I'm Gone

Run run
Walk walk
Stop and stare
Wonder how will I end
Where shall I be
When my time ends
But will those that knew me
Hold me still


If I love enough
Shall my memory live on
In the eyes, in the ears, in the heart
Where shall I sit
Whose ears shall hear my song
When I’m gone
Whose eyes shall read my words
Will I someday make someone’s heart cry

Love love that’s all I can do
This is all I can give
Will you remember me
Sometime
Somewhere
Will you hear my whispers
Wipe away my tears
Spread your arms
Spread your legs for me
Love me when I’m gone