مدونة محمد الربيعي الأدبية في قوقل

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Night, guitar and a cup of coffee
And the river sweeping up its waves
Between this and that, I have emotion
Darling thing never can be forgotten
Some of birds were going sleep.
And night blows its breeze coolly  
While the vision of the stars turn aside
Enormously its shadow touched down
A moment comes as if a revolted tyranny
Once an echo staved off my emotion
Meanwhile it was too dark feeling disturbed
I picked up my stuff to welcome the desert
Thrown my suitcase, I set up a fire
And the blues covered me from all sides.
Remotely it comes as if a Newton apple
A moment my desire was declined
I passed asking the moon what was defined.
It clavately turned as if it had eclipse
And runs as if it had inevitable journey
By God, what happens to my mind?
Deserted only my thick hear I scratched
Nevertheless of all these amusements,
My feet dragged me to trapping
I stood as an angle of attack ascending.
The moment of curse I stopped
And as a retreating oneself I hastened       

No, Iraq must not be divided

  No, Iraq must not be divided
Across history Iraq is united
You the politicians are dismantled
You the voices I hear selfishly shouted
Keep peace or shall we turn revolted
You can't do that only over our corpses
To redeem our Home, we mount our horses  
From north to south, we are one clapped hand
Viva to you country you may lively stand.
Nevertheless, we are sects or factions,
Our nation voice is one at hard missions.
Thou who claimed the victor in division,
You are monkeys out of any function.
My heart is with those poor everywhere
Thou country must always take care
A digital morph ever has a unique tune.  
As a pot never stands on one stone
O, my Iraq, let our dead tear out their shrouds
Tigris and Euphrates yet to thy deed are proud.
Nay, the country of honour still undivided
Eye! Every palm tree shall be frustrated
Aye, every stone shall be violently enraged
O, those, who, want their sway to be wide!
To which part can you stay if Iraq leads to divide?
Iraq is one Home having similar countryside
The same traditions of generosity and pride
Iraq is the core of sun that gives us light
The scythe of farmer glows optically bright.
The wristwatch never I put it back

O, my country: live long as a flying hawk.           


I tore up my sorrow
I removed my sorrow
Let it going up mountains
Let it a slippery slope and died
To be as a gliding tone then stopped
To be smoothed in the sun
To never has been aches
To never its worms pinches
Is sorrow touchable?
Indeed, there is sorrow
Everywhere there is abuse
Everywhere there is death
Everywhere there is birth
But there is no freedom
Even if the slavery has been dated up,
Yet it comes as a new fashionable red light
Somewhere its gaps drafted and marched
In the marshes it was immersed
With our water it was immersed
Can't it be drinkable?
I know that something is wrong
Perhaps something in this life is wrong
 Yet there is a swan song
Yet there is friendship and song
Yet neighbours to neighbours long
Let them burned the sun
But not to burn up our fashionable moon


Friday, May 9, 2014

Mohammad-alrobaey-literary-blogpost : Everywhere

Mohammad-alrobaey-literary-blogpost : Everywhere: Everywhere Your vision meets me everywhere As a dawn breaks over my mansion As a thicket walled with a shapeless wall Once it co...



Your vision meets me everywhere
As a dawn breaks over my mansion
As a thicket walled with a shapeless wall
Once it comes as a multiple choice
Once it tickles my joints up to my arms
As I am feverish in amidst of winter
Yet I have tow letters to tell you
One is yours and other is mine.
And the clue of all these is time.      
Your vision comes up as a joyful music
Everywhere I listened as if deaf
But the murmur of leaves makes me awake
Suddenly it hesitated as if thick foams.
But I know, yet I know it is just dream   
Whence my destiny runs out of my passion
Once I cannot meet your eyes
Once you grow up large and educated
Yet I am just a hobbyist reader
Has been lost amidst of old papers
For what shall I read?
To which extent can I read?
Just a worthless human skippering at doors
O, the grief, let me shut up and never speak!
Since the flood never comes to my area
Am I dreamy? Or
 Am I a pensionable man?
No, I worked and still I work
My dream is to see blazing stars
Yet forgotten and diminished in our desert
As a stopless end of an old o'clock 
There the orchard of my life where you stop
There the moment of joy shall envelope
To be a wedding party for last years
Don’t disturb me again please
Your name is the bell jar of my time
"Nevertheless of all these"
Your vision meets me everywhere