Sight By Aurora Second Edition

By Muthanna Yacoub

Sight By Aurora is a collection of philosophical, emotional, and sociopolitical poems, written to encourage understanding between peoples, and to spread a message of love and respect for all beings. The common, yet prohibitive mission of live, love, and laugh, is shared among all beings, and this poetry is meant to encourage understanding of that shared experience.

Through the perspectives of human and political observation, ecological appreciation, and introspective exploration, the author shares his perspectives on a variety of subjects that had tormented his mind--from suicide, to torture, from war to the cold shoulders of mankind. The speculative nature of this poetry is crafted to articulate a point, but much more importantly, to encourage the reader to question his or her own beliefs, as well as the author's.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Muthanna Yacoub
• Release date: May 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476466743

Muthanna Yacoub

Muthanna Yacoub is a medical student, who has a deep affinity for nature and wildlife. His passions for environmental and human rights is reflected in his writing. He grew up with, and enjoys the sport of ice hockey, and currently lives in Colorado.

Book preview

Dedicated to all those who have shared their travels with me, and whom I am blessed to have shared my travels with. Special thanks as well to my amazing friends and family, and the one who captured my heart.

Sight By Aurora

Second Edition

Muthanna Yacoub

Published by Muthanna Yacoub at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Muthanna Yacoub

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Categorical Table of Contents:

Philosophical poems

Emotional poems

Sociopolitical poems

Philosophical poems

A life amazing

It’s one thing to just get though life

To survive

It’s one thing just to do your thing

And depart

My question to you is:

How do you want to positively change

The world?

Even if it doesn’t work out

At least you died trying

And that is more than enough to

Distinguish a life amazing

From a life great.

A woman’s body

A woman’s body

The halfwits treat as a commodity

Men fight and bleed to control

What they foolishly think they can own

A woman’s body

Is not for sale

A woman’s body

Is not a prize to win

A woman’s heart

Tells her whole story

A woman’s body

Belongs only to her

Alloy

Separating ground from sky

A charge scythes its way

Through the thin, open honesty

We call the air

Charged with a task unspeakable

Unspoken

Charging towards the unsuspecting victim

Charged with a crime

That was never committed

From behind one foggy lens

The victim was guilty

From behind a faraway bush

There was no bullet fired

From the grasshopper's spot beneath

The sky had fallen

From the ears of the bird above

A storm shall soon arrive

The stranger in Okinawa

Knows nothing of this tale

The mother in Idaho

Never hears its end

Meet in the middle, and you'll see

An alloy of many impurities

With little residue of the ore

Left in the body of the bullet.

Neutrality has little to do with reality.

Antechristus

Commands antechristus

In the modern day era

Time changes, as do solutions

Drives antechristus

In the modern day era

Time stays still, neverchanging

Beings created by man?

No, a fantasy

Formed of a collection of human needs

Exploited to feed one man’s thirst

For extravagance

Like many dreams, fantasies given life

Move differently in front of open eyes

While the world turns, it burns

It scars, more weakly than

The tissue before

The writing on the mausoleum walls

Shall be written on my gravestone―

No, not this time

My name is not Joseph

Arch

Domination

Excavation

Of the sweet seeds of determination

Split and spit without a chance

For germination

Manipulation

The threatening horrification

Of a beautiful notion

Called equality

It's hard to see clearly when

Huffing the scent of sick success

Fumes rising from the fallen

Mulched by the heels

Of who they've carried

Why should one be higher than another?

One heart more worthy of hearing

More worthy of being seen

Through the cataracts of the public view?

And yet they follow

Like turkeys toward a slaughterhouse

Convinced that what lies at the end of that dark

Little entrance

Is something pleasant and glorious.

Consider that there is a reason

How the exalted got so high

And it was not by the supernatural

Look beneath his feet

To find the corpses

Cause for celebration

Good job, lads!

We've finished another bottle of rum,

Mission accomplished!

What's your score

Of ladies you've taken advantage of

And effectively treated like objects?

Never mind, for mine is higher than yours!

We share today, lads,

The essence of pointlessness

And emptiness

In our way of life-giving

Let's drink to another sucksess

A useless mission completed!

Hurahh!

Chinook

What rays we do not see

The light tucked back behind

The horizon

The cold wind against our skin

Gains warmth behind those hills

The sunlight gives them life

Life that will touch us

Warm us

When it arrives

The Chinook winds

Are on their way

In spite of all black holes

Selfish souls

To the sides of our shoulders

Drawing us in

We walk toward the shy

Chinook wind

Follow its warm autumn scent

Follow it to the horizon

Away from the insatiable vacuums

Inspired by Khakendra Pun

Clarity

Does clarity exist?

Is it in the minds of youth and the wise

But not in the minds of the lost?

What’s wise to the one with

Different eyes,

Who’s been touched by different light

All his life?

What’s an answer that’s right

That never comes

When we’re blinded by

All the spotlights pointing

Different ways?

What’s a solution to impossible

When life demands it right away

Meanwhile it’s impossible to see?

Clean?

Where are the officials to call a penalty

On this dirtiest of games

The one who loses,

Loses his head

All rules are not followed

All faces have a poorly-replicated twin

Which is has a sharper bite than tongue

Sickening is my view of this

Wicked arena

And yet, I am to participate.

How does one enter an arena of sludge

And come out clean?

Am I best to leave this filth behind,

Or dive in, cleaning it as best I can

From its middle, out?

Neither option is free from fault

And both are noble true

Making a it very hard

To pick between the two

I think I’ll do the latter

I don’t know if I’m right

But such an arena so heavily needed―

In a clean state, that is―

I might as well make a mark there

As I happen to be in search

For a good mark

To leave my world behind

A better place,

And not in smoke and ash

Codeface

High in a dome of sterility,

Besides the occasional sneeze of dust

Rests a lad of uncertain demeanour―

Resting indistinguishably from his active state

Demeanour uncertain

Shifting with the trends of invisible

Wagers

Shifting with the asp-like strike

Of the backspace key.

His spine exists only figuratively

In his words

But relieved of its duties

To hold his head to the skies

To scan the mountains

And to sew the seeds

If only he knew how to plant one.

Seldom does his feet come in contact

With whatever is left of the

Sot, original earth

That's been replaced with the

Excrement of refined quarry

Digestion.

Seldom does his feet carry his width

To those he'd related to

Electronically―pixels on a screen.

He'd not make the journey to hold

A hand

To kiss a forehead

And to learn the scent of another lass

One! And only one, of the list of

Flirt-ables, for what he keeps private

On his internet list, they,

They will never know the betrayal.

Never shall he see her

And hold her hand

And learn her scent

Anyway.

His lure

An image hardly