An aimless wanderer
with no compass
or a flag to wave
The eyes of God
one sin on your left
one bliss on your right
white-washed page
futile and useless
Dark as the night
heavy with life
Sun-worshiper
bowing in humility
Blocks of the Aristotelian purgatory
in a vicious earth we’re doomes
Unreachable gold in childhood
easy destination now
Clouds put a smile upon my grandfather’s face
I never liked winter
but I like clouds
Airplane’s sketchbook
Source of innocent happiness
in a trip to the verdant valley
What I like more than clouds? Stellar clouds
with all colors and shapes, endless miracles
world travelers
or is it us that travel, and they sit and watch?
my papers are damped from the tears of the clouds
on a sunny day
** Inspired by Wallace Stevens poem – Thirteen ways to look at a blackbird.
AICHA BINT YUSIF 