What Moment Gave Time Meaning

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What Moment Gave Time Meaning

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

Love runs by like

A river in springtime,
But lust always runs away –

Never looking back,

He’s too busy thinking of himself,

He notches his belt…yet again.

What do you hold onto,

Through time

And what have you

Used this time for,
This borrowed time,

This time

That is never ours,

Especially when we wanted it

most?

I held you close

Naked – our bodies

Finally beating

Tribal drum,

Our rhythm rocked -

The room,

Our souls,

The night

Away.

You held me after

With tender touch

And wantons edge.

Me

Desperate to hold

Onto that moment,

Forever….for soon

It will be gone,

…Again...

I must seem like a freak in

Those precious moments,
Holding you like

You’ve been gone for years

(I barely even know you)

And that I’m afraid I

May never see you

Again…

Because I know - once it's lost,

It’s lost

That some’thing’…we will never get it back

Again.

In the den of harmony

In the cradling arms of

That tender moment

I thrive

My existence,

Though seemingly fleeting,

Cherished life

In the new dawn – hope

Remains on my agenda

But it rarely sticks to schedules

You can understand the challenges

There

Don’t let those moments

Go untouched

Through professions of

Love

Through the body,

The soul

Today

Ours is the only fire that

Burns bright,

Tomorrow perhaps lingers

As fading embers

Or

Even nothing at all.

So don’t be afraid to

Be

And say

What you really

Feel

Who knows right? -

Here today

Gone…. tomorrow?

Television Today

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Television Today

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

Commercials that make food

Come to life

Make me not

Want to eat their

Creepy food.

(I change the

Channel)

American football

Has become so violent

I'm guessing someone

Will die this year from

Their injuries...

On the field.

(I change the

Channel)

Reality TV - I've noticed

People have no regard or

Consideration for others,

As of late,

It's been a rude society

We live in.

Ill educated and ill mannered –

My father would say.

(I change the

Channel)

Death Commercials

Are comical -

You're shocked

That I am text

While driving?

-

I'm shocked

That you’re shocked.

Welcome to 2013.

(To be fair,

I'm also not shocked

That you drive like shit)

(I change the

Channel)

Car Commercials make

Me sad that more cars

On the road

No longer come standard

With turning indicators

As a standard feature

As seen on TV.

(I change the

Channel)

You can guess what

Channel this is…

Most of gay men

Are whores because

Some people are too

Immature to want to

Grow up.

Some people just fear it.

Other guys think it’s a

State of mind.

Is being a whore

The definition of

“Showing your pride?”

(I change the

Channel) 

Picky eaters

Carnivorous cavity

(I change the

Channel) 

Constantly satisfying

Your lust and sexual desires

Satisfies your love from

Ever having to exist.

(I change the

Channel) 

Debate about Immigration –

You'll know the tide has

Changed

When Mexicans

in Los Angeles

Drive better cars

Than the Koreans

(Though I doubt that

Will ever happen

Based on the way

This current world

Is spinning.)

(I turn off the TV)

What The Water Has Given Me

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What The Water Has Given Me

By Husam (Sam) Salman

Pride and humility struggle

Like Oprah and dieting

Empty are the hands I use

To reach, to learn these vast

Lessons.  No mentor, as I am

Expected to learn these alone.

No guide, freefalling – reaching

Out into the dark – reaching

To see if I bump into some

Other mistake in life.

It was just me and my scotch

At night, contemplating life,

Mistakes and the like.  It’s that

Maddening glow of the fireplace

That would mesmerize

Allowing uninterrupted self

Introspection. I toast the fire,

Wood as its’ offering. It hissed

And me remaining silent outside

Of my head.  In the time of life, I

Do regard my wellbeing

As measured by moments of joy.

The warming dance beyond the

Hearth caresses my cheeks. 

I can always count on tomorrow

To offer me way too much,

sometimes,

just a little more than

I’m use to; other times – BOOM!

I drank way too much,

Buzzed, now slinking my ass

To bed.  

Patriots

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Patriots

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

Motionless, there the body lays dead.

His victor, now soulless, stands hovering after.

These are the defenders of you and I

And America the beautiful.

Who’s teaching these kids to kill

With the purpose to educate the world?

While wondering on foreign sands

For the triumphs of war – to the victor

Goes the spoils – Spoiled Brat!

Looks like we’re winning…but

Winning what?

What are we losing in exchange?

A piece of mind is being offered up

As bait from the nightly news,

In exchange for our worries – of which we

Nary partake.

Like sharks teeth tearing at the flesh,

The truth is media raped these days

You hear what you’re told

Take it or leave it…it’s going to remain.

The internet just makes matters worse

What’s true anymore?

Truth, is becoming obsolete -

Perception, though trivial, takes the reigns.

Of Today

Of Today

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

The day has yet to climb the hill

To my house – and break.

I rolled out of bed reluctantly

Drifted down the avenues

In the search of coffee,

To jumpstart my mind.

Still slung over from

Last night’s fair.

In the daytime, beyond the

Boulevards, I see skaters

Ollie over the same hole in the

Road.  They sit and discuss

Life – through the vast window

Of knowledge gained in their

16 years on earth – Buddha’s.

In the afternoon, I’d hear

The ice cream man rolling through

My neighborhood for the skaters'

Daily injection of self worth

And gluttony.

The shadows grow long

And the sky radiates red

Just for that one spectacular

Minute – where death and ambition

Seem to merge.

Casting poor shadows the

Waxing disk hangs in its’ cycle

Circling us ‘slowly’.

That smile on my face,

Unexpected, but obvious

When you think –

This life is all we’ve got

And today was beautiful.

Hours of Feeling

 

Hours of Feeling By: Husam (Sam) Salman

That was so many lifetimes ago… How many breaks of day Have your eyes greeted mine Emotions remained unspoken Bleak thoughts of “us” in tomorrow Spilled form veins, listless on the floor Hemorrhaging any possible future Together Only a memory remained Of standing there, pillar-like, beside Me Caught glimpses of my fawning Like I had no game – a newborn To dating – Mouth and Heart Gushed openly I stand past the shores of old And wade into the rising tide of  New beginnings. My travel buddy - the hand-of-fate Endless, the ventures await.   To use in my New Babylon? Only time will tell.

Ballads and Ballerinas

Ballads and Ballerinas    By: Husam (Sam) Salman

Hum me a tune of long days ahead While the man by the lunch truck Is shooting dice and speaking Spanglish, Red Jordan’s seems to have snake-eyes I don’t know if that’s a good thing, but he takes money from his honcho’s hand Laughs and rolls again. More words fly into the lunch truck At jumbled speed – circuslike With hands in pockets wielding The bills solution A day’s long hours are cut By the sounds of devices and horns Spilling in from streets through Open warehouse door Notes of humming drift in Signifying the feelings of the time And the closing of another day.

Of My Life

Of My Life

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

 

In the backyard, next to the trash barrels, my dog

relaxed – stretched her paws out as though

she were leaping while lying down.

In her spectacular dream - that we call life,

she’d casually glance over to see if we were

staring.  The wag lets us know she saw us
seeing her.

 

It’s a casual autumn day, October

it’s been over 10 years since I’ve started

my journey.  My friend holds my hand 

reassuring me that tonight’s show will be

“Fabulous!”

 

My nerves ride like waves crashing

Mediterranean in size, ebbs with dim wishes,

the maelstrom, the end game, the worried trek

and the final blow. Runway.

 

Beyond the skyline

like cattle being herded

down the boulevards

we drive just as fast.

 

Outside, on my rug-covered patio,

Stefano smokes his “last” cigarette.

Inside, I dive head first into a cup of coffee,

deciphering the future with every drop.

 

 

Part of my mind wants to be a child

again; to go back to that moment in time,

so that I can throw my dog the ball

one more time, to have her eyes fix

on us once more and the wagging

pleasure that ensues, and comedic

reluctance to get up at all.

 

The other part is happy I’m growing up.

 

 

Whatever

Whatever

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

Whoever said it wasn’t okay to:

Speak up

Scream if you have to

Be an outright bitch to prove your point

Not talk to anyone

Retract

You are not even ready for all this

Just you wait

Just be, yourself

Happy – show a little love

Smile at me…it’s not that hard

Botox?

Show a little love

Cry with me

When I’m lonely

When I’m down

Show me humanity speaks

And it’s all coming from your

Voice at this very moment

It’s ok to think about death

Every now and again

You be you,

Just the way you are
The very way you want to be 
Glad you are not like anyone else

So go on and BE

The way YOU

See fit

Do the things your way

Be happy doing them like that

Be yourself, every step of the way!

Shamelessly YOU!!

These Little Demons

These Little Demons

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

In the underground

As I skid below the streets,

 In body of a metal worm

Whose motion was rolling rather than wriggle.

Spanning from the Downtown isles of the sky

Wound its way into NoHo, and the south;

Weathered workers would walk to its grace

Only to be swept away in this demon's belly.

No apps work in the wyverns lair

They rest heads as though in prayer

Headphones on, drifting off.

Hoping not to catch the eye of the crazy woman -

Hopeless, always asking for more crack money

“It’s for my baby”.  (I’m sure)

The luxuries some people

Accommodate themselves with,

Trinkets of adornment

Enlivens their outfit

Or are thrust in their faces

In the palms of their hands

Glowing tablets, tomes of knowledge.

None of us are getting out of this alive,

Life I mean,

This subway will bend

Wrap itself around a few more hoods

And end…

Until the traveler is no more.

Home.

Intermix

Intermix

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

Nothing goes undefined

If you have the answers

You have those answers.

The song streaming slowly

From Pandora

Is Boy Trouble by Benoit & Sergio.

Bragging rights for fashions

Those are typically

Worn in/out by ones noted

As fashion don’ts.

Couples are like atoms,

They don’t want

To be split.

Once in a while

When we hang

And you ask me

About what I think;

my mind

Collides with yours –

Some fusion is made

Sometimes

Unknown results.

Data, matter, scattered thoughts

Little by little

It starts to make scene

I become defined in the picture

You so desperately

Want to paint me in;

My hand motions you a stoke

Of awareness as to who I am.

Ah

I melted with you

Just then

In that moment

With god

With everything

Light and

Dark.

Like a tree bloomed

In seconds in my mind

Branches of knowledge

Like universe

Expanding eternal.

The honking horn

The turning SUV

The fallen motorcyclist

JUST THEN

Everyone on that corner woke up

Iimmediately !!

Why should I feel

Bad about fashion?

What comes after the post-modernist?

The other side - I’m with them…

It’s a revolution

Just you sleep at night

In your ruse of mid-century survival

Looking crazy as all get out

When nothing stays the same

For more than a second –

What then?

Did you know

We were placed here

To intermix

And find out what’s next?

Faux Front Chaud

Faux Front Chaud

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

Un projet à froid de la fenêtre sonna

Comme la glace, une dérive notion partout mon esprit

Chuchotements sharp langues maternelles

La malice sous la forme de sourires

Ami du jour

Seulement une plaisanterie au mot : ami

Espérant que cette chill changerait

La saison pour arriver à maturité

Seulement, il n'y a aucun espoir

de ou pour que vous

vous bénisse le monde avec votre bite

touchés sont les personnes de votre

chemin

qui apparemment

doivent sortir de votre chemin

sauf s'ils sont froids trop

détachée de tous

mais l'auto

Did You Let Me Know?

Did You Let Me Know?

By: Husam (Sam) Salman

Did somebody say the road was easy?

I’d question you.

As you stand there sucking your Spirit,

Each breath closer to death,

Wondering why some people behave

As though they are entitled - EVERYTHING?

As I live and breathe…

The airs you display for the sake of

Being seen a certain way

Being noted to hang with the “right” sort

With those can afford only what you can afford

…If not more…

Your care and consideration is only for yourself

Welcome to America

This is the land of the broken hearted

It’s my home too!

I’d appreciate you understand that I am not like you

That I don’t know what you know

That I don’t have the instincts

That you think superior to those of my own

Here we stand in the same room

Looking at one another in odds

In the hope that I’ll one day love you again, “friend”.

…Because right now, I don’t…

I know what you say and how you talk about…everyone

And how everyone talks about you

It’s odd to hear the tree huggers talk so much shit

Then turn around and hug the same shit

I didn’t ask to be a topic of your feculence

Here I am trying to love, you, him, her, everyone

To be your friend

You, standing there in your illusory catty Queen-dom

Enough shit coming out of your mouth

You could fertilize your fate of solitude

…and you’re going to too!!

I eliminate the salt from my diet

It’s the thing that prevents seeds from spouting

From the soil to even stand a chance

Ironic effect of ‘this’ type of shit

Sorry – But I’m all stocked up on the useless

…I own a PC (laptop), an iPhone 4S and a Ford (NOT a hybrid) …

So you can save your ‘face’-time for someone else

I just saw how I’m living

Moreover, how I’m hating

How I realized that I’m hating

Because I have haters in my life hating

Time for a master cleanse a detox –

One that’s the most effective I’ve done in years

…Unfriend…

I’m in the pursuit of a better me

And if I’m bitching this much about you

It’s not because I’m bad,

It’s because you’re pissing me off

Perhaps I have expectations of people

Perhaps I’m crass

Perhaps I’m too honest

Perhaps I’m able to see a flaw in something

Perhaps I shouldn’t say anything

Perhaps I say something

Perhaps you get upset

Perhaps not

…you might already know me, and my ways…

Did you say anything

To me?

Did you let me know?

Did you bring it to my attention?

Did you think the silent treatment taught me anything?

Did you think I cared?

The funny thing here,

The REAL absolution…I didn’t know

And I can’t make effort to change something

I know nothing about

If you don’t say anything

I don’t know

If I’m unaware

I will be upset at unnecessary side glances

Bitch, say something – I don’t need games

You don’t need to call me out

At a bar

At a club

At a party

Do me a solid and pull me aside

And let me know

What I don’t know.