December 20th, 2006
|10:45 am - hammoud, the finest of them all|
hammoud, thy name is like a bird. really, because that's what it means. and thanks for not repacking my wound with a packing strip and long tweezers... with no anesthetic. like that other doctor did. i can only imagine your needle technique in administering local anesthetic, how superior would it have been to that of dr. rani... god, i hate doctors. and clinic environments. i never want to go back, ever. but honestly, wouldn't they have experienced the very same pain had they been in my position? i hope they haven't forgotten their humanity.
methought I heard a voice cry 'sleep no more!
macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep,
sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care,
the death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
chief nourisher in life's feast...
contrast this with nizar quabbani....
jerusalem, luminous city of prophets,
shortest path between heaven and earth
jerusalem, you of the myriad minarets,
become a beautiful little girl with burned fingers.
city of the virgin, your eyes are sad.
shady oasis where the prophet passed,
the stones of your streets grow sad,
the towers of mosques downcast.
city swathed in black, who'll ring the bells
at the holy sepulchre on sunday mornings?
who will carry toys to children
on christmas eve?
city of sorrows, a huge tear
trembling on your eyelid,
who'll save the bible?
who'll save the qur'an?
who will save christ, who will save man?
jerusalem, beloved city of mine,
tomorrow your lemon trees will bloom,
your green stalks and branches rise up joyful,
and your eyes will laugh. migrant pigeons
will return to your holy roofs
and children will go back to playing.
Parents and children will meet
on your shining streets,
my city, city of olives and peace.
Current Location: work, where else?
Current Mood: listless