Private Conversation With Abu Mosy Al-Asha’ry

To those who walk next to God; not before Him and not behind Him — Wael

Abu Musa Abd Allah ibn Qays al-Ash’ari was a companion of Prophet Mohamed. He represented Ali Ibn Abi Talib in the negotiations during the Battle of Siffin between Ali and Mu’awiya.

Tainted with blood is the tire of his car
Drove away and care not did he
The only witness was I
I covered the dead body with my newspaper
And when the crowd came running
I tore the number I wrote on a crumpled paper
    And walked away
Open not my mouth did I

In their war, fight did I
And when guilty I saw both
    Both, I rescinded
    For the believers to reclaim the say and accord
But the believers did not realize the deceit

When I entered the cafe
    With just a look, the garson stripped me naked
Stripped him did I, with an apprehensive look
Hated him back, did I
But I tipped him
    And quickly he brightened his face with a smile
    An idiotic bitchy smile
On a match box, I drew his new face

Descending along the river, I watched them
For they could watch the Virgin of the Nile
    – upon her sacrifice –
    in her last makeover
In sobbing and prayers they indulged
Came did I
    After all the bubbles have burst
    After the dinghies came back
I saw them in the markets
    Trading their sorrow for grilled meat

Tells me the fish
    – tells me their dead content eyne –
    Their last meal was a human flesh
Before the nets caught them

Tells me the water
    – confined in the shiny glass flask –
    We alternated swallowing

Tells me the embalmed crocodile
    – hung on the next door –
    The bones of a young girls were his bed in the bottom of the river

I took off my ring, and disavowed my master
Shall I count the moles in my hand
    For you to know me when you come tomorrow?
    And wash my body
    from the foam of the scum

In the night of loyalty
I saw her – in my dream – like a lazy mare
Saddling her, for the rental carriage, was the wagoner
Beating her with the whips
    And she neither frets nor flees
And when I revolted and harshly spoke
To me, she turned her head
    Turned her beautiful eyne
Two roses did I see in her eyne
Longing for a kiss
    from a flightless bee, with a broken wing

I saw her – in my dream – a pregnant young girl
Just a shadow, did I see her
And in the morning, when I saw her hoist to the sail
She smiled, and waved at me
But I stumbled upon walking
    Someone else I found myself
And when I got up, I looked goodbye at her
As if I have never seen her before
She felt ashamed
    And never she said we spent the night
I left in the morning, with only my cigarettes
Stuck it in the pocket of my gray jacket
Only my cigarettes give me love, unconditional love

– Dream –

It will be a year, the crops and udders burn
With the curses of thirst and hunger, our hooves grow
Crawling-children fight, licking the wet soil
The pus of bitter gum grows in the mouth
    Grows in the eyne until they cannot see
The earrings fall off the ears of the virgins of Egypt
And dries the breast of the mom
    Waking up in the middle of night
    Cooking, on her firepit, her infant child

I walked next to God; not before him; not behind him
I realized
    My word is immaterial to influence his sword or his gold
(and when my eyes saw what is under the outfit, it no longer aroused me)
I flipped – for a while – the sides of the coin
And when the deadline passed
I threw it in the well, without noise
And thus I lost his patience and his anger

Your eyne – at sunrise –
    I sip my morning coffee from their roasted beans
    And tell the future
And at the calmness of sunset and goodbyes
    Your eyne – darling – are shrubs of plum
Sits in their shadow the sun
    Mending the ripped dress off her luscious thigh

Descend will ye on the crowds
Flapping thy wings
    for their eyne to miss you
    behind the tears
Stopping at the erect swords
Listening to the anxious humming
    And leave will ye with no return

And there will be hunger
There will be hunger

Wael AbdAlmageed

Pittsburgh, April 25, 2022

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