Fare Thee Well Algiers (it's not the end)

I have witnessed great events and moments of epiphanies flicker and trick me I have shaped with a bloody ink a thousand ornament of poetry I have recollected sweet painful memories I have met a lover on a tragic day Although the threat of greatness is hated and envied Each advance is stared at calculated and revoked This year marked a release of a great withheld energy Postponed for the sake of an eternal merit That was labeled the grand great literary victory But before was a great poetic glory So how this great romantic story started?

In the beginning was a flower held in votive not in twain A green-like journey beholding a karmic energy A literary charity for the orphans of Algiers must read There also was a great man from a noble family who rose me From the deepest pits of solitude to the understanding of this country Then came an endeavor to open my heart spinning it as yoyo Mimicking it as a song of love for a deranged girl Love I thought was the greatest happy ending Yet it marked a death and a rebirth and the start of a star I was judged and twisted in a thousand tale from a different perspective And in the end I regained what I had lost The comprehension of the cosmos

I went from psychedelia to bejaia with love And healed as many souls as I could Then saw them all vaunting with their ego I heard them silent and loud I saw them all in their severe scenes chasing chicks and burring their sorrow My ink baptized them as bethany beyond the Jordan I was the moon under a rocket I was mushroomed in a pit I loved a Gemini under a tree I danced through energy with an Aries The memory was beautiful but the ego buries all In quest for another journey yet to be conquered and the all Seen eye saw me in my severe scenes and gave me all Sense to become one with nature in this winter spleen

I had a god-like strength and a town-like pride Under a sexual Scorpio beast waiting to be let out and aggressive Out and in from darkness to brightness There was a saint priest and a villain rascal Although I atoned in an Algerine balcony for my sins all night long Nothing was enough to compensate the grandeur of a universe within a heart There were many prayers and many women and many vows There was a foundation of a stable life yet to be demolished each time I opened my heart Decay and declines in hard tides and heartfelt times Hard times yet romantic times in a neo-noir symphony There was a time for tea and time for tears when Areslan died Time for she who loved me instantly Never to be forgotten nor her stroll upon the Algerine shores From sacred heart to Bab el oued we walked with our poetic hearts Following inspiration wherever it led us and making us whole The energy was ascending not to be postponed My ego told her to stay away and away and away What we love we cannot have Yet I loved her above all words in a single day and in one poem I loved her more on the day when my friend died

So I met a lover on a tragic day And each tear was near the image of her eyes curiously gazing mine I was pleased to build under grief the troupe of the poets of Algiers From unity and discontent I rose us all for nothing Yet our words were high and grand and loved so were our gestures Our eyes our mouths full of pride and high For there was love and lips and thoughts Arise Arise poets of Algiers Look look I have written five books One that contained spells and visions from the future And from the depths I too rose as a rose Or a horse in a chariot without the fool card by my side I must say before my death I loved that day for it was memorable I have cast a manifestation faster than a bat’s wing And the mastery of the memory and the sea was a prize that I finally won But the gift of amenity and glory is envied And what’s behind a smiling visage is a jealous mind Caused me to sink low and there were others Another page of a horde of people fascinated yet navigating their sea of life Through me and I loathed that

Days of healing have passed As days of comfort surpass The urban suffering of a town On that month there was a gothic leoness and I was still a poem-maker It was a skill that erased all the tormenting past Still in isolation sitting lonely still and vivid Stared and gazed from afar the eyes became tenfold aggressive This town needed order said I It needed to be bent down in one big collective energy So the Order of Icosium was shaped from a noble anger that froze all the calamities On the perfume of Rumi and the flowers of evil had patched All the words that were within me the energy went like a train fast A soliloquy at a chic hotel as a dream with new comers and passionate souls There was room for better folks and a space for better clean people The Order of Icosium was a memorable success and more and more did the souls gather around it

But my father in earth implored me to work and I willingly chose the material matrix

I became a teacher of English for academic purposes Training researchers and doctors some hated me other joined in this journey The work was draining and the path was long and tormenting I sat in a natural plateau with nothing but inspiration in this vivid green spleen There were some epiphanies and in a table harnessing inspiration were moments of greatness Along that journey was a call to reclaim my poetic pride And I was there in a ring where I introduced each poet Charming and dark full of great words yet my heart was charmed By a broken soul deranged in her behavior almost scorned I gave her my all and received nothing but pain in return And when I thought that the year had ended was a tragedy upon my soul I became again a healer of my mother and sat with her for long moments patching her wounds I gave her my all and will still give her my all my sweet mother This gave me the compassion of an archangel and the understanding of the cosmos

People became threatening and evil and draining I again met a spiritual leoness and we loved ourselves through hours of phone calls We were down and we rose together stronger than ever ready to reconquer So I launched my books on a cosmic level available and ready to be printed and delivered Am I ready still for the dream of departure There were signs and dreams and hopeful visions Yet the time is not yet to come not until the literary victory is near May God give us strength to pursue our passion and dreams

I will isolate myself in an island for three days and three nights With nothing but strength and love and poetry and God Time will become everlasting and ever-present I slept and woke and meditated and wrote The divinations from an island this will reclaim my soul

Then when I returned to the town I witnessed the boredome of the ville And understood that it’s a postlude call a final hymn to shape and sing And that in the heart of the heart lies a cruel grief Of having to depart from my town I will be distant but near My dear dark romantic town I’ve bared more than you can see And unleashed my divine energy heart wide it was collective and always within I was ill from the scorns and suffered as a child who fails to bespeak The cruelsome world and its sins The suffering within Of being an awakened soul In a town so tormenting

Before the hereafter is a divine call to finish what I started To let go of this collective energy and to spread it faster than a bat’s wing With the esoteric purpose and the universe by my side I will plant a heavenly seed Of poetry and the divine with love as the law this is my holy creed

I merged science and poetry in one academic setting

And introduced to my town the world of metaphysics

I was not lauded but it was a tearful merit

With God and poetry in one paper what a heavenly profit

In the name of these three I took my spirit

Detached from any envy I chose another path and another town

But it was not the end nor the postlude

Nor the end of the novelist nor my words for you

Dear Athens welcome me heart-wide I’m just a poet in quest for another ville You too are shining and sea-shored hanging as a divine booklet open for us all Our heart chakras are closed it’s a tough call to render love as the law If evil deeds are easier then I renounce my rascal’s claims And poetically connect with your sunrays To embrace your dark romantic days And rejoice in your Hellenic realm From this sad time and forth From this rite of passage and forward I will become the universal novelist