Starry skies above made that chandlaire’s blockade…

Ahmed F. Baidoon, an eminent poet and novelist from Northern Egypt, shares his poetry

Ahmed F. Baidoon from Northern Egypt, Damietta, born in 1981, where the Mediterranean Sea meets the River Nile, is a lover of natural exposure, and smitten by both Arabic (mother tongue) and English as a passion, besides his background of other Italian, Spanish and French. Introducing himself, he says, “That passion was incepted since primary educational stages, strengthened with Arabic rendition and erudition at school, the recitation of divine seal revelation Qura’nic verses. Sequenced by my faulty at the English Department that led the doors open to know a lot about history of literature and criticism, along with poetic fundaments. Knowledge comprised all primordial pillars of cultural and literary inclination. That all resulted in my being a poet, a novelist and critic. Moreover, the literary avant-garde oeuvre was written in Arabic; namely, a collection of anthological short stories, entitled: ‘A Human being but…?’, ‘Mannerisms Tinged With Savory of Oneself’, ‘Altar of Imagination’, my poetic output manifested with the anthologies of OPA network site in English and the Arabic Poetic Diwan of Sonnets called ‘Give me some slack’, three novel literary outputs; namely, ‘Stratagem, thy name is women!’, ‘ Nabhan and the Cask of Bewilderness & Perplexity’. Besides, my today’s repertoire of English poems through social media platforms like OPA poets, Poetry Tribune Verseum, Meipian, Homo Universals. The Arabic Poems enlisted through Magazine like Nokhba, Sefro, Amarji, Misan and Arabic Conference. Awaiting to add much beauty through tapestry of innovativeness throughout my upcoming translation movement as I am working on translating novels and the pathway to my encyclopedia to be a landmark and manifest-clear bridge between the Arabic and English linguistic paradigms in prose and verse, also I am smitten by the new Arab literary genres that coin the microcosmic world, such as micro-fiction, micro novella, haiku and tanka, other cotemporary masterpieces.

Serenade of Flora and Fauna

I look around and find the perplexity of natural parade;

Starry skies above made that chandlaire’s blockade,

Therein – I saw a host of clouds unfurled hidden tears,

The ovation of such tragic rains stormed out human fears,

I look around and find that foray of wrathful motion,

Oceans with the salvation ark, my words struck that caution,

All peoples of sinful earth shall strive to find out solution,

I told myself as I hearken the stampede of that dismay,

Whatever gloomy thronged fixations, I shall pass,

Nothing last in melancholy and monotony, behold- my lass,

A ravishing sensuous insanity crossed my mind,

In the love land of my dreams and those scenes behind,

Replete with vitality and farfetched hope;

Of signs that may lead my way through global horoscope,

I need that foreteller to foresee my muses of disclosed future,

Don’t sweat it – my son, here you are the full picture;

Resounding warry meteors fall from above,

But, peace you sought- for sure – will bring the dove,

That mossy stone you recline on will be a rosy throne,

Of daffodils, lilacs and jasmine, that perpetual Oak; no more moan.

I look around and find constellation of mighty scepters floating,

No evil or diabolical clans on this world can be gloating,

Those fluttered kids of heavenly earth sway out of joy,

Dazzling every senile and every boy,

Away from that travesty of inflicting pains,

Shall rise luminous aspirations devoid of disdains.

I wander through my trembled swathes in spree,

And, find an apparition; made my folk flee,

Like the chessboard of terror knights on patched battlefield,

All floral infestations on fire as rife,

And, my jocund serene pubs on strife.

A dieus! – my dreamy land of quietude and fraternity,

Vamos! Those outrageous horrific seeds for eternity,

Be our ‘hamartia’ is inebriation of passionate solidarity,

Let alone these mongers of hatred and obscenity.

Then, our accolade of coexistence is torn,

A doddering wisdom and virtue borne,

Still, that blackout loom and overwhelm,

Still, my paradise pregnant with ominous whopping realm.

At last, my terrestrial mother nature steadfast,

Still, glancing such glitching postpartum birth of salvation cradle,

Intertwining bygone to the unseen presence to make the blast,

To rid this planet of that baffling tribulation abyss,

Sine die – till the resurrection of the Judgment Day’s bliss!

***

An Epitome of Annual Blues

The universe with candelabra filaments dimmed,

The full moon of celestial torment hymned,

That wedlock of melancholy and spring,

The offspring was a badger barge in swathes wing,

With detached amputated dream that paved his way,

Into the realm of barren land without blossoms or stack of hay,

Those wading birds, when darkness loomed shall fade,

Summoning unfurled cries of peasantry handmade,

No sign of hope – those orchards can bloom,

That veritable corpse of vegetation can never exhume,

And that; the salvation on that earthly throne,

No human sibling can rejoice but moan,

That warry apparition of travesty and famished nature womb proclaim,

Those imbued clouds with wrath ignite the flame,

That springtime almost seemed weird,

No token of fraternity as the globe spouses appeared,

Nothing but monotony and stillness of the gyre swirl,

That natural rage in pursuit of the pearl,

That mattress of thronged calamities of inviolable caress,

Shall bring about an eerie creation, all mankind profess,

That prevalent pestilence looked rife,

No more vegetation, no more jocund psalms, but more strife,

Is this how to be like —this life?!

That demon diabolical subterfuge obsessed feeble minds,

Or, that blind surrounding made more blinds,

The spring always came at once replete with infatuation,

Even that far-fetched star glitter with vexing formation,

Ravishing whoever go astray conscientious aberration,

That wintery fusillade of pains shall end—a declaration!

Behold—that oak as the judge applying the rule,

I hereby pronounce you all as harmonious homogenous jewel,

Hearken— with love and peace, the world masterpieces sing,

Long live that serenade of meadows in that so-called spring!

Still, those ravishing muses of that annual song,

To where we reverently belong!

***

That Day Poetry Celebrate

Today is the day; I call myself a rambler,

Never hold true to a poet but see that wrangler,

My orchard imbued by rosy petals and cloves flower,

Those rhymed words; he created out of whim,

That realm of the impossible is a mirror to him,

Maybe, he sought salvation and catharsis,

A mermaid or peaceful world of his own analysis,

The poets are knights of letters soaring high,

With chivalry, prowess and relief with sigh,

Morale and lesson learnt rendered through a line,

Not a bag of lies but adamant truth rise and shine,

Let alone those quatrains, stanzas and a ballad,

Conform to humanity and reason, something valid,

A herald of gleaming sign of hope, a messenger;

Of glad tidings, a harbinger to warn against fallacies, a presage;

With bonafide his endeavors seem,

Between ranked cultured, lies his dream,

His teachings to overall folks—riffraff, rustic and urban,

His ode is an eternal trail of legacy remedy, a skilled surgeon,

To end those luminous syllables with laudation and glare,

My saluting couplet, an accolade of ovation to the bonfire flare.

***

Tribute to Women

 I can’t fancy this world without her laughter,

I can’t stand a landscape without her banter,

She is my soul, my passion, my endeared hug,

She is my solace, my healer, my sweetness at times of tug,

She is Ophelia, Desdemona, and Juliet with mustleflex of love,

She is an epitome of divinity, an ideal scientist, and encyclopedic dove,

Ravenous for giving and altruism and generation well-being,

Energetic to the interest of her familial and filial felicity conveying,

Let alone her stance when a husband or a kid is sick,

Henceforth, she got entrenched for their cure as foremost rules to stick,

She is the sisterhood with lenience, liaison and collaboration,

A crown princess of agility, elegance and deserving garland coronation,

Her matchless paragon of mercy is astronomical,

A philathrope, intuitive, a skilled solver of all problems, of acumen and philosophical,

If there be women at any whereabouts,

Aromatic repletion and gentle breeze manifest-clear, no doubts,

Oh, ye all men folk do good to all women—be clement,

Otherwise, doom to be solitary hermit in face of feminine raging segment!

______________

Read: Land of hypocrisy – Poetry from Egypt

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