Winter Nights, Page 3

  Interior unknown

  79. The Screen

  This device has been a staple of my life for years, but

  it has now become an addiction I’m beginning to fear

  It starts with checking my email in the morning, then

  before long I’m streaming and chatting and blogging.

  I’m called by my friends and family and peers, however,

  all their calls are nulled by the screen, and I’ve disappeared

  I’m transfixed by its beckoning light and imaged worlds, and

  have lost interest in the reality around.

  It offers entertainment, virtual experiences and information, but

  lacks the intimacy of human interaction.

  An appealing contraption of attractive power has

  locked its subjects in an inescapable tower.

  Connected to every country from a comfortable seat, but

  lacking the experience. What a cheat!

  I sit here behind a screen to write this poem, isn’t this

  the most ironic statement you have ever known?

  80. Secrets in the Dark

  Secrets in the dark

  Make you whole or incomplete

  Keep or bury deep

  Fearing they escape

  Pondering your horrid fate

  They have become you

  Secrets keep you safe

  Binding you to friend and foe

  Without them you’re lost

  81. Settle

  Settling a debt I didn't owe

  Settling for a seed that cannot grow

  Settling to avoid a truth I know

  Harsh is the light shining bright

  Harsh is the darkness you have to fight

  Harsh is the truth I already know

  Poison seeping through my veins

  Poison, invisible without a name

  Poison is the truth I painfully know

  Settling is to choose and not to choose

  Settling is the fear that made you lose

  Settling is the truth I've always known

  82. Silence

  Between every word ever said

  A thousand more, heard but not uttered

  In the silence lies the truth

  That which is often concealed

  The one that only the quiet can reveal

  A motion, a glance, a smile

  Rarely hides what words deny

  Through the cracks of every phrase

  Run the meanings that no one says

  With facts always known

  And acts protected, never shown

  While relying heavily on senses

  Rather than explanations that might create messes

  An understanding that cannot be described

  Awaits in peacefulness, where noise does not reside

  Words unsaid are the most powerful of all

  The silence holds stories told and never told

  83. State of Crisis

  In a crisis state

  Panic overwhelms the crowd

  Calming miracle

  To hold emotions

  And suppress your daunting fear

  Or stand in its face

  For every crisis

  There is a concealed blessing

  But it leaves a trail

  84. The Storm

  Static approaching

  Accompanied by strong sounds

  A flash of lightning

  With flooding rains and

  Aggressive winds all around

  The storm rose and peaked

  85. Style of Disdain

  A style of disdain

  New with a freshly pressed smile

  And bloody brush strokes

  Red clears the canvas

  Making way for dripping black

  What an endless loop

  86. A Teasing Game

  We tease and we play

  A game without rules is shared

  Triggered by a void

  Consenting adults

  Are only allowed to play

  No questions are asked

  A dangerous game

  Of a forbidden nature

  Intrigued are you not?

  87. Terrified

  Terror seeping into my soul

  Emotional wreck, almost not whole

  Relentless agony, which must be endured

  Reminded by horrors? I’m not even sure

  Ignorant of events yet to come

  Fearful of demons, when there are none

  Impossible anxiety, beyond rationality

  Eating away at the truths of reality

  Dominating my thoughts and causing calamity

  88. Treasure Chest

  A chest of treasures

  Among the gems and jewels

  A precious locket

  So mysterious

  With strangers’ faces inside

  Who were those people?

  A mystery chest

  Full of past unknown secrets

  Jewels can’t compare

  89. Unpredictable Journey

  As unsteady as a rocky path

  As challenging as a herculean task

  As narrow as the widest lane

  As bumpy as an unhinged train

  Life’s journey continues on

  As thrilling as a roller-coaster ride

  As changing as the ocean tides

  As ferocious as a hunting tiger

  As deadly as a venomous viper

  This journey into the unknown

  As rewarding as helping the blind

  As delicious as apple pie

  As fluctuating as mood

  As soothing as solitude

  A journey of constant discovery

  90. The Vehement Rider

  Vehement rider

  Took the reins of his strong steed

  Deadly was their quest

  A violent road

  Filled with treacherous dangers

  A brutal journey

  Fear didn’t factor

  Limited were his choices

  Only way ahead

  91. Venus

  Venus flaming high

  In the pitch darkness she shines

  Extreme is her heat

  A beauty goddess

  Desired by the lustrous

  Ethereal and pure

  Grows stronger with age

  A new form every era

  Modern: unyielding

  92. Waiting in the White

  On a smooth carpet

  White as milk and cold as frost

  He lies patiently

  With his charcoal eyes

  Peering intensely through fog

  The wild white wolf waits

  93. The Way

  In every place

  And on every day

  There is someone, who would say

  “You need to do this in this way”

  To those people I’d like to say

  Who are you to show me the way?

  And why does it need to be your way,

  But not my way?

  There was a time long ago

  When people weren’t told where to go

  By those who only claim to know

  And assert their need to do so

  My business is mine and mine alone

  Because when the light fades and the day is gone,

  Neither you nor I can claim what’s wrong

  We both simply need to stand firm and strong

  Because at this time

  A judge will say

  Which is the only way

  94. Where is Home?

  It was cold when I woke up this morning on the street

  With bitter cold wind freezing my face, my hands and my feet

  ‘You’re finally awake, good morning!’ she said

  Greeting me as if I had just gotten out of bed

  ‘We have new toys today.’

  She ironically continued, calling out for me to play


  We play with bullets and we play with bombs

  While other kids play with real toys in their homes

  We have no homes, no school, just streets that are painted red

  A sentence that she often said

  And hearing it I would always dread

  However it was true, because both our parents were dead

  But through it all, we laughed and we played

  Until it came, that dreaded time of day

  When we could no longer stay

  And we all had to run away

  They hid behind their fortresses and guns

  And killed everyone, old and young

  Until in the end there were none

  Only then would their task be done

  We watched in silence and in fear

  Waiting for them to disappear

  The man in the helmet vacantly stared

  As if I was no more than air

  He then turned and vanished, after accomplishing his deed

  He was pleased, even honored, to have satisfied their greed

  As quickly as it had started, it finally stopped

  And with the sound of the last gunshot, my heart suddenly dropped

  I walked down the street trying to ignore the bodies and the blood

  Looking for her, looking ahead

  All the time hoping I wouldn’t see the body I prayed I would never have to see

  The one I saw lying right in front of me

  She’d disappeared for a moment when I turned my head

  And now she is resting dead

  I cried as I roamed the streets all alone

  Where, oh God, where is home?

  She was my best friend, my family, my all

  She made me feel safe in a time of war

  In a country that was no longer mine, I stood on my own

  Wondering where is my home?

  95. Window

  Staring out the window

  Watching the sun rise

  Head still on my pillow

  As the little bird flies

  Green are the trees

  And calm is the river

  Swaying are the leaves

  Near a flow that lasts forever

  A peaceful morning

  That won't disappoint

  Hope is always soaring

  When lives are joined

  96. Winter Nights

  On cold winter nights

  Watching through the window panes

  Wrapped in a blanket

  Silver streets glisten

  And gleam in the neon lights

  Heavy rains in sight

  97. Winter Witch

  Wicked witch

  Wearing white

  Waiting for a while

  Warm winter

  Welcoming watchers

  Whispering near the water

  Witch wishes watchers

  While freezing water

  Wondrous wonderland of ice

  White ground

  White water

  White smiling witch

  Watchers become skaters

  When water turns to ice

  Winter witch walks away with glee

  98. Words

  Words are knives

  They can slay

  They can wound

  They can cut

  Words are brushes

  They can paint a scene

  They can clean a mess

  They can grease a pan

  Words are vehicles

  They can cross a sea

  They can circle the globe

  They can transcend time

  Beyond all boundaries

  Against any tribulations

  Across all cultures

  Words are eternal

  99. A World of Nonsense

  A world of peace

  A world of war

  A world that once was

  And is forever no more

  This world we live in

  Which makes absolutely no sense

  Where we will never belong

  For its illogical dangers are immense

  100. Wounds

  Wounds carved deep within

  Scarring, painful to the core

  They last and linger

  Emotions surface

  Exposing the buried wounds

  Harmful words escape

  With fresh blood dripping

  New wounds lacerate the flesh

  Fragile beings fall

  Review by Vernita Naylor for Readers’ Favorite

  Do you like poetry? What message does poetry convey to you? What expressions do you feel when you read poetry? Winter Nights by Baheya Zeitoun presents to readers over fifty poems of varying lengths about mindfulness, emotions and fear. As you read through Winter Nights, you will experience a variety of emotions as seen through the eyes of Baheya Zeitoun. Baheya Zeitoun expresses how matters of the heart can not only be told through pen and paper, but how those words speak volumes through their message. Take a journey and feel the heat, passion and life in Winter Nights as you read poems such as Failure, Breaking the Silence, Hurting Love, Calmness Within and Words. It is the words in Winter Nights that stimulate the psyche and ignite a flow of energy and passion to want more.

  As I read the poems Empty and I Am Who I Am, I felt the essence of being. As it says in Empty: “...In this uncertain future/ With little hope Is the path of life you need to take.” Empty is a strong yet vulnerable poem. Reading Winter Nights, you will see that emotions are not only what we express, but become who we are. If you are seeking a collection of eclectic poetry, get a copy of Winter Nights by Baheya Zeitoun to add to your library.