Tag Archives: oak

Black by Oak

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Looking back through my folder and in an attempt to clear it of its clutter I came across this little gem from our philosopher poet Omar Ahmed Alkhulaqi, aka Oak/ OAK. He is now creating his own style of Instagram Verse, if there is such a thing, the appellation is mine.

The following came into existence as part of an exercise at one of the BWC’s (Bahrain Writers’ Circle) Creative Writers’ Workshops. We were all asked to express the word: Black, and this was what our poet created.

“It is the absence of all colour, the abode of secrets in the night. It is the domain and perpetuator of mystery, rooted from the ages by man’s fear of the unknown. Its ambiance resonates from its ambiguity. A frequency of doom that sets in motion the strings of terror, while the mind expands and the senses retaliate, the strings shudder and vibrate. A resonance grinding to sweep away the dusty soul and awaken the inanimate and the forgotten. An instigator of curiosity that leads to questioning, a descent of light into nothigness and the defeaning of sound into silence. It removes security and familiarity and induces a pulse of danger and vulnerability. Like a veil it blinds the eyes unbiased and unmerciful , the senses arise to fight for their survival, the terror smitten rationality struggles with irrationality. All that is grave and evil lies waiting, offering a freedom away from the light of day either to better understanding or tribulation. A menacing darkness that pervades the spirit, announcing its menace with banners of an insulting army whose motto is ‘Woe to the conquered!’.

It is a dream that finds purpose in its existence because of absence in things, taking the shape of unanswered questions and stalked by their immortal King– Death. A dream writhing to and fro, in and about and exciting the senses to the mystique. Black is of danger, freedom, courage, contemplation, vulnerability, sorrow, pain… It is bitter when denounced and sweet when marvelled. It is shadowed by darkness, and there all forsakes you, even your own shadow. For it is a colour that excites many things and is as deep as our peaceful sleep, and above all–indispensable.”

Note: You may find more of this delightful poet’s work on Facebook here:

https://www.facebook.com/omar.kuladi?fref=tl_fr_box&pnref=lhc.friends

And on Instagram follow the handle @b.t.oaktree and check out more here:

https://instagram.com/b.t.oaktree/

 

A Chai Affair

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by Omar Ahmed AlKhulaqi

 

When my lady prepares her tea,

I hear the boiling water spewing,

And like the cup, it streams in me,

The steamed herb of my undoing.

With her wand in circles I go,

Stirring and stirring me down to my soul,

Anticlockwise, suspending time,

I surrender to her design.

 

Snapping back at the wand’s clink-clink !

The hypnosis ends as she blinks,

I gaze at this spirit of sort,

Our eyes commune where words fall short,

She hands me the potion that scents her hair,

Her chai! O such an intimate affair,

My senses rippling, eager to erupt,

A whiff of my soul, brewed inside a cup.

– Oak

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Halifax Streets

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From a place called Leeds Street

You can see the ocean

Behind an institute of technology

That spawned engineers and builders

The kind that mauled the hillsides with roads

And marshalled the trees

Into soldierly rows

Gouging out in a mere two centuries

What Nature had husbanded

Soil on rock, soil on soil, layer upon layer

Too thin a soil belt to hold a redwood tree

It bravely sustained pines and hemlock,

Birch, maple, elm and cedar

Too few to people the hills with now

They have become mere street names.