Love for the Written Word - By Matab Brahimi

shall I name your winding stars
one by one till healed the scars

shall I count each ticking planck
Till next my eyes have you to thank

lovers of the stars and lands
wish not to change hearts by their hands
but for the ears to sway and take
what took the trembling hands to make

if not but read these lines so quick
and smile for length a Planck to stick
My words had purpose of reveal
a poem...for you to simply feel


Paint Palette - Matab Brahimi

Don't be deceived 
to think the canvas shows
the secrets that 
only the paint palette knows

no trust should be placed
on soft brush strokes
smeared and scraped 
under ill-tempered hands
search for sentiments 
only the paint pallete understands

much thought and scheme
made this canvas be
masking the true intent 
only the paint palette can see


Like Water - Matab Brahimi

like water on a still day 
you ever-so-slightly sway
waiting for the fragile leaf
to quiver your gentle way

drops that tirelessly drum 
only to merge with you as one
make way for the gale
on which sentiments sail
waiting for the strong to succumb


Husk of Hay - by Matab Brahimi

A husk of hay
buried beneath
too light to weigh
this golden sheath

I found the strand
that made me weep
with the hearts command
I placed it deep

too fragile to clutch
too temporal to sustain
internalizing its touch
outweighed feeling its grain


Procrastination Poem - By Matab Brahimi


She throws a soft blanket on me
when there's work to be done
warms me up and lays me down
in a web of excuses she spun

When my alarm goes off
She quickly hits the "snooze"
tucks me in then whispers,
sleep is all you'll lose

Whenever I am overwhelmed
She is always there
to make me forget my to-do's
and live NOW without a care

I thought she was there to save me
and help me through the rough
but time and time again
She proved herself a bluff

"Tomorrow" is her favorite word
But when tomorrow's here
Procrastination, my disease,
is quick to disappear


Snail Vs. Email


snail vs. email
tortoise vs. hare
is just another snare

email me, text me,
give me a call
in my memory
it won't install

I want a letter
the old fashioned kind
inscribed on paper,
inscribed in mind

I want a letter
that I can clutch
cuz you can't smell texts
and feel an email much

So write it up
sign it and fold it
and THEN :

lick it, stamp it
give it to the snail
and I promise you
your letter WILL prevail



Snow White's Apple - By Matab Brahimi

A trap, it's set
and this I know
But still its there,
A dressed up foe

I do not stare,
IT stares at me
and shines in light
for all to see

Beware of red
Nature's sign
To back away
While there's still time

But sense of time
has disappeared
and still it's there
just like I feared



OCEAN- By Matab Brahimi

in every curl that sweeps the shore
lies a memory to restore
with every intense crash of a wave
lies a time to relish and crave
in each sparkle of reflecting light
is a faded dream aching to reignite
in each frothy bubble clinging to sand
pops a tear, not wanted not planned
rolling water, of shy waves glide
hinting at secrets, only nature can hide



Writer's Block - By Matab Brahimi

Writer's Block

Blank paper, how you nerve me so
Ink that only yearns to show
A scribble, a dot, a concrete thought
It's what my nimble fingers sought.
A word, a sentence, a one-of-a-kind
A line, a runway for my mind
An empty space, a chance to express
Memories, confessions,
and thoughts of distress
O edgy letters, and soft-spoken words
Fill up this blank paper
and ease my nerves.


Color Me Red, Autumn - by Matab Brahimi

Color Me Red, Autumn
Color me red
and tickle my sight
Let your leaves shed
accents of sunrise light
Dance leaves dance
and embrace the breeze
Boast the seasons prance
of the shedding trees
O rooted mother
let your little ones go
Next years another
new season, new show
Orange burnt, Yellow bold
a warning, for the next
season of bitter cold
and snowflake fest


The Unfinished Poem Called Senioritis - By Matab Brahimi

The Unfinished Poem Called Senioritis - By Matab Brahimi

This poem is dedicated to the following:

To all of you out there,
Who, sometime around December,
Something plagued their lives
And they're too lazy to remember

To those who cringe
From the word procrastination
And wake up at two p.m.
Because sleep is their salvation

To all those naggers
Who drag their feet and say,
"What homework?...oh that,
I'll do it some other day..."

This is for those who promise
To get things done
And instead shrug it off
Because "it's not fun"

This is for those slackers who just heard
The paper is due
Who see it in their agenda everyday,
Yet they had "no clue"

For those up all night
Staring at a computer screen
Typing up that report
while gulping down gallons of caffeine

This is for you seniors
Who hit snooze countless times
(uhh...I'm just writing this
So it rhymes)

This is for...
(The author of this poem
Is taking a break
And promises to finish
Once Awake....................)