Introduction to Death and Rebirth

Death and Rebirth is an autobiography in verse. It has the different
stages I went through in my life. The poems basically speak of my
experiences throughout this journey we call life.

It begins with The Birth of a Poet, where my senses were
introduced to the world, where I found myself experiencing the
complexity of human emotions. Here I would like to ask the reader
the excuse the frailty of style in that chapter, for some of the poems
date back till 2004 where I was fifteen years old. I could have
edited them of course, But I decided to leave them in their chaos,
for they represent an era of innocence and pure spontaneity in my
writing.

Death of Innocence represents the time where I literally hit rock
bottom in my emotions, and you will find that very much
reflected, and here I would like to apologize, for some poems
might seem too dark, and too depressing. For at the time, if only
words would help me express, I was in that transitory state where
childhood was to be left behind, and I was left to face the cruelty of
a world to which I was unprepared.

Transitory Silence represents the time where I found myself inside
a bubble where I felt all my of my thoughts were dispersed. It was
a difficult phase, for it often brought drought for my pen, which is
every writer's fear. In that phase came deep reflection and reevaluation
of values and thoughts upon myself and the world. It
was a crucial phase that helped escape the depression that, I later
on learned, was self-inflicted.

Rebirth of Faith is what I can call the time I am going through right
now. Where there is strong belief in the world, in love, myself,
others and the human condition as a whole. I have become a
learned and experienced man.
The boy who once suffered, hurt and went through phases and
phases of depression now truly understands who he is, and he is
set on reaching what he believes is the ultimate goal of his
existence, which is to reach out to others, teach them of his
experience so that they would be inspired to improve theirs.

Poetry Book

Two years ago, I submitted a book to a website, www.lulu.com, where I posted a poetry book that can be sold through a print-on demand method. Now, two years after I posted it, they send me an email telling me that the book would be available on amazon.com!

And it brought me an idea. Currently I am working on the books, fixing it and editing it, in hopes of publishing it in Lebanon.

Point is, I am now listed in amazon! go check out the book! ^_^

Death and Rebirth - Ribal Haj

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/death-and-rebirth/674242

P.S : I know, the cover sucks!

Abstraction

Dans un monde sans vision
sans contacte physique,
sans sexualite
Tu es paru
Me manquer
me bouleverser

Ma croyance en une ame abstraite,
rend mon coeur le plus concret,
a le toucher,
et l'embrasser...


a S. A. le seul a m'encourage d'ecrire en francais... tu te connais! :)

Silence of my god

Silence,
Is the language of my god,
As he turns his face.

Loud screaming, deafening my human ears
While my soul screeches for divine sound.

Left my heart buried in the dying soil
While I look for answers in salty seas
Deliver my speech O mighty divine!
Offer me truth I most implore
Relieve the pain of loss!

For you I have fought my wars
For you I have wept my tears
Eternally yours I have promised my soul
Given it strength, fed it your words

Now, facing unbearable agony,
I beseech you,
And my creed is found in vain.
For you have shut your ears
And forsook me…

Again.

Simplify

To simplify my emotions
I write you stupid love songs
But love!
Easy words fall unworthy

Poetry withers at the mention of your name
Rhyme loses its musicality
And verses fall ashamed

Love,
You strip me off my education,
My talent and reputation
Oh sweetheart!
The more I try, the harder I fail…


I fail, Oh yes I fail
But failure boils me
It kills me
And death feels good
Death feels sweet.

So I'll shorten my phrase
For the sooner I shut lips,
The sooner you'll kiss me
So kiss me,
And silence the desperate poet
Pathetic at composing rhyme
Oh if only with every silence,
You would kiss me each time!

To Tuomas...

Bless your words, for they wound my soul
They cut through my being like a blade that rapes my blood
They waken my heart from its numbness
Revive my insides, thirsty for feeling

Your verses weave thoughts within my dreamless mind
Shatter the walls of my inner flood
They are a drug that circulates in the veins of my stiffened hand
They creep into me and the poet inside is resurrected

My Christendom is built upon your church and bible
That teach of pain, of sorrow and of dear sweet life.
You are no god, and far from being divine,
And it comes a consolation

You are no man-created being,
You are your own created self,
A self anointed Christ!

I shall not worship you, nor your words
But I shall feel them, remember them
And build my poem upon them,
A foundation of my rhyme

You, among the thousand prophets,
Are the only I might call a friend,
And if only I was your friend!

I shall dwell within each line your hand weaves,
In desperation awaiting every magic…
I sign my letter with my only name,
Nemo, the once and forever.

Remedy

Watch me die as I shed my skin.
I agonize before your eyes and you stand helpless wishing there was something you could do to cease my pain.
I watch you through half open eyelids as you weep like a child
'Give me the kiss' I mutter under my breath
'Give me the kiss that springs life into my veins'
But your ears are deafened by the sound of your silent tears.
'Darling, your lips are my remedy
Come forth and electrify me with the power of your breath
Give me the touch I need to live onto
My dose of heart beating you inject!'

'My insides are numb and I feel hollow
Frozen without your love
Overcome by shadows swarming to claim my soul'
But I do not give up
'Your love will revive me,
Your love will protect me
It will save me.'

As you begin to turn your face to walk away
I feel my heart bursting the words 'I love you'
I scream into myself!
I bellow to silence the heart that keeps you from hearing me
Then…
My heart, as if obeying my command, stops…
And I am left alone in a moment of time,
Alone with my soul,
And I must deliver my final words
Before embarking onto the journey,
Towards nothingness…
I decide on my words, and direct them to you,
'He is my soul'

I feel you stop in your tracks, as if to listen
'I love you…'
Then nothing…




My lips moisten, and I feel…
… the blood running through my vein
… the air penetrating my lungs
… the heartbeat
… the breath
… the soul returning to me
I feel…
Your kiss


and I feel…
Alive again.

My eyes open, and I see the most beautiful scene in existence
Your teary eyes starring into mine.

Will You?

Will you be a part of my human experience?
Will you share my intellectual thoughts?
And bring me to confess my intimacies hidden?
Will you laugh at my jokes, and cry at my pains?
And will you let me feel those lips curling
as you kiss my cheek?

Will you leave a mark on my lips after we kiss?
I'll forget to wipe the Rouge
and walk down the street with smudged lips

Will we sit by the chimney and sip our wine?
naked and wrapped up on a cold winter night
as the rain knocks on the window while we share our love

Will I one day hurt you by saying goodbye?
and you'll hurt me more by saying you don't care
I'll walk away thinking the love is gone
and you'll sit on your bed crying your heart out
crushed from dreams we wanted to build

Will I then bring you flowers, saying I love you?
saying I'm sorry and that I need you forevermore
Will you jump at me, hitting me with the ashtray?
for being a fool, and doing that stupid mistake
Will you then kiss me, like I'd never been kissed?
And we'll make up, and we'll make love for a night or two

So many question and answers are few
I will keep my dreaming inside of me
If roses were red, and Violets were blue
Then the day will come where I will find you...

I am your home

Your heart has lost its home, Oh dear friend!
Make way for my hand to reach out and touch it
Carve into my being with what might you still possess
Plant your heart into my flesh…
Take away mine, for it means none if yours was lost
Let your heart live in me, Oh dear friend,
So that when it hurts, it is me who suffers
So that when it falls ill, it is me who dies…

My body will live on, nourished by all the love
You've filled into your beating organ!
I offer my whole being a sacrifice,
It is all yours to claim
It might not seem much, Oh dear friend!
But poor I have been raised,
And poor shall always be
Seeing how rich of emotion I see your soul!

When you feel all lost and weary, Oh dear friend!
Remember…

I am your home.

To Jad B...

The Mark of All Beginnings...

I promised myself that I would stand next to you as you fought your battle. I promised you that all will be good, that I would make it easier, that I would stand beside you till the very last moment, till the very last breath.
And here I sit next to you, watching your breath weaken, your skin turn pale, as your soul fights for its existence. I put my hand in yours and you squeeze it, letting me know that you are still here, telling me that your love for me is what is keeping you. I get up slowly; kiss your lips as my tears fall on your face. You are dying, a graver death than that of cancer. A death with no remedy, with no deliverance promised. The body once perished is relieved off its pains, but the soul is never.
Your tears appear now from under the closed eyelids, and they get mixed up with mine that fell on your face, and I can't take it. Silently I sob, silently I swallow my tears, and silently I kiss you. But you hear me. You feel me as I burn us down to the ground. I wish I could control it, but I cannot. You squeeze my hand some more, and I feel it giving me life. Suddenly I am the one dying, I am the weak one, and you are the one bringing life into my soul. As though the remainders of your fragile spirit are creeping into me, nourishing my agonizing soul.
I start to shiver, and you are as firm as stone. You, lying there in your hospital bed, supporting me while I should be the one supporting you. I cry, and I allow myself to sob aloud, until I hide my face in the side of your pillow. I hear your weak breath, and realize I should calm down, for your sake. I get up, and start my weak attempts to wipe my tears. And then I hug you. I hold on to you for what seems like eternity. And I say goodbye…




I had been looking for years and years for that one person to be able to love. And he came just like a dream come true. I saw in him the one person to break my defences and unlock my heart. I do not think it was love from first sight. It was pre-destined love. Love before sight. I believed myself crazy for falling for him, but crazy I wanted to be, if it meant having him.

I remember counting the hours, and timing my sleep just so I would be able to wake up and find him awake, and talk to him. I'd promised myself never to give my heart so easily, and never to go through unprotected love. But he came to me an intoxicating drug, a disease that took hold of me, never allowing me to breathe. And I was happy.
I was falling in love. And I was surprised, that this time everything was perfect. He was available, he was there, and waiting for me to say the words. Ironically enough, he comes to me, and tells me the words I'd never imagine hearing, or reading but in tragic love stories, and corny cheap movies. He told me he had cancer.

I'd never known someone who had died of cancer, except for my cousin Ali. But it was such a long time ago that I can barely recall it. I think I was about eleven years old, and he was seven. I remember it happened so quickly. One day we were on the beach, both our families, the next he was in the hospital. I remember the grown ups making such a fuss about it although I did not understand why. Everyone went into hospitals. I found nothing strange about that. I also remember them talking about his possibility of being exposed to too much sun. Again I did not realize that Ali's case was crucial.
Then one day my father came waking me up. As always, I pretended not to hear him, for maybe he would go away and I could have more time to sleep. Then he said it: Baba, Ali Mekdad died. I still remember his face as he said it, full of pain. His eyes had cried, I could make that out clearly.
I sprang into my bed. What?
It was all I could say. It felt so strange, so weird. How? He's only seven. How could he have died?
My memory then flashes to the funeral. I saw a lot of people, most of them I did not know. His parents had been divorced, and I'd never seen his father before. I would never, ever forget that scene: Men crying, men including my father. My heart was about to burst, as I felt my throat go sore. I kept the tears in. I fought them out. Ali could not have died, why cry over him then?
Then I remember his mother, my aunt, being carried by two of her sisters, as she cried and screamed in the middle of the street.
'He told me to give his savings to his sister.' She would scream non-stop.
'He told me he wanted a burger once he got out of the hospital. You didn't get your burger Ali. You didn't get your burger ya habibi.'
I couldn't take it anymore. I burst out crying. It isn't fair. Why should I live while he's in that tomb being mourned by all of those who loved him?


At first, conceiving the idea was what I went through the most. I even began to doubt his claims, but I never shared these doubts with him of course. He told me about his battle with Leukaemia that started 8 years ago. How he was able to win once. Giving him 4 years of pleasure, and peace, until very recently the cancerous cells began to reappear. And how the doctors and his parents were doing their best to hide the horrid truth from him, and how he was able to figure it out. And how he had little time left, and how I should not be involved with him. It was too much to conceive in the course of our little conversation we were having, and that began with our admiration to music, and our love for Loreena Mckinnitt. I wished our conversation would have ended there.

I was before making a choice there: either accepting the fact that we were not meant to be, walking away, and saving myself an inevitable heartbreak and thus living in peace; or staying, falling in love with him deeper still, fighting, suffering and watching him die as my heart shredded itself day by day watching him go away. Irony hits again, that I chose the second.

If it has been a normal love story, it would have been the end, or at least the beginning of the end. But when it comes to me and Marc, it was the mark of all beginnings...