| From Psychic & Spirit Online Magazine Poetry I. D. (or I don’t), A poem by Sahar Huneidi By Sahar Huneidi Apr 15, 2003, 12:18 Who am I? Where is this life leading me? High fever? May be; But the wedding must go on.
Duff [1] beating: deribik, deribik, deribik, da Spiritual ritual that's moving Henna night. Tattooed tender fingers, is she ready - the bride?
The duff goes on beating teribit, teribit, teribit ta A musician playing electric guitar In a galabiya [2]
And I am crying out in solitude Between the Changing Of The Masks: Who am I? Where do I belong? The Dervishes go on spinning Teribit, deribik, tra la la la! [1] : A sort of hand held large drum, made of camel skin. [2]: Arabic name of the long national dress men wear. (c) 1995, Sahar Huneidi Read Other Poems By Sahar: Breakfast On Friday The 11th of April 1986, Virtual Reality, If You Were A Vase © Copyright 2006 PS-Magazine.com, otherwise the author. PS-Magazine.com and MerlianNews.com About PS Magazine l Terms |
