Oak Dreams

By Sada KHELALFA

Oak dreams are the dreams of the women, her perception of life, of love, of hope, of happiness and truth. It is an explanation, in a poetic way, of different positions in the female's life to reach into her deep emotions which come to her heart and her soul. I am going to write a few modest lines, emanated from the deepness of innocent ink, which cannot master the suppression of words mind, in the form of chaos. Sometimes the words attack the paper brutally, and other times they remain stuck in the brain as a heavy ferric helmet that cannot be removed, and at the same time they cannot be entered into the words' tomb, they remain detained until they fade away with the arrival of new army of ideas. For you, all inspirational persons, you deserve all reverence. Without your ability to influence, I wouldn't be influenced by you. If you didn't give me a chance to swim inside you, my words wouldn't be released. Excuse me... I am not brave enough to tell you that I lived with you in a letter, a word, a line, a sentence, an idea, a meaning, and in poetry; I wandered surreptitiously into you for a moment of truth, I am still living as a butterfly among the flowers in the fields of words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HOUSSAM KHELALFA
• Release date: Sep 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9786202489928

Book preview

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Females' Dreams

SADA KHELALFA

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Before all praise to ALLAH for giving us the courage, the strength, the will, the love and patience during our course. 

I would like to thank My brother (HOUSSAM), Our philosopher, Who Inspires, trust and believe me all of time, I want to say: It will not be enough words to talk about you.

The support from lambert academic publishing is gratefully acknowledged.  Especially editor of lambert academic publishing, Cristina Nastas  for all of his help and guidance.

Dedication

I do not know ... Who deserves to be mentioned before the other? And who is first worthy to be declared without sorrows. I am going to write a few modest lines, emanated from the deepness of innocent ink, which cannot master the suppression of words mind, in the form of chaos. Sometimes the words attack the paper brutally, and other times they remain stuck in the brain as a heavy ferric helmet that cannot be removed, and at the same time they cannot be entered into the words’ tomb. They remain detained until they fade away with the arrival of new ideas.

For you, all inspirational persons, you deserve all reverence. Without your ability to influence, I wouldn’t be influenced by you. If you didn’t give me a chance to see your lives, my words wouldn’t be released.

All of you, including you who didn’t know that you entered my papers, as sequential colors in a blank page, you are worthy to enter the history through the widest of its doors, albeit in a fictitious form of mine.

Excuse me ... excuse me ... I am not brave enough to tell you that I lived with you in a letter, a word, a line, a sentence, an idea, a meaning, and in poetry. Excuse me because I wandered surreptitiously into you for a moment of truth.

Dear inspirational, who knows me and who I know them in turn, I really know you. And for those who I heard about them, and you haven’t heard about me, and those who I don’t know them,  and  don’t know me in turn , thank you for inspiring me in silence and in utterance.

Thanks to you, I am still living as a butterfly among the flowers in the fields of words.

To my husband who has all the love

You impressed me

At the beach

I sat listening to the voice of my loneliness

Healing some of my fragments

Collecting my inner filling which is spread outside your eternal times

With my handkerchief, the genie was displeased with heartbreak

To rub over my new places

Only this piece of fabric brocaded with the letters of your names

And the remaining of your touches

And your pass through my clouds

Absorbing my air

Stopping my breath

You were not

Carrying a conclusive sward in a deep sheath

That attracts the senses and increases the number of palpitation

You weren’t a fierce arrow

Which snipes the home of secrets in just one hit

You were not...

More than an open book

Pale paper that has been recycled for a thousand of times or more

And no more than a wandering thief in the oak princesses

You were not...

Robin Hood

Nor Maharaja

Nor Imru’al-Qays

Nor...

To hold the heart with a brave fist

Or an authority, or a rhyme word

You were not

More than an ordinary man I met him in the middle of a fog at the intersection of