My Favorite Poems - more to come

Shakespeare's SONNET 18

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee. 

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Daffodils By: William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

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If by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!

A Carnivores Odyssey

I have been eating meat for as long as I can remember. My forte into flesh consumption started with the ever so ominous Happy Meals. I devoured the puck like hamburgers with such vigor to ensure that I got the toy. My mom would keep it hostage until I finished my meal. My affinity for potato sides dishes also has its roots in those Happy Meal days. As I grew older and my palate became more sophisticated, but not by much, I graduated from hamburgers with french fires on the side to Parmesan mash accompanying my well done steak. Nevertheless, I still get a bit nostalgic upon passing a McDonald's. I smile at the thought of my nephews and niece experiencing the same joy from the cardboard happiness of Happy Meals.

Growing up in Cairo, Egypt, my daily school lunch was a cheese and egg sandwich. My mother made it for me every morning, that is until I started middle school and was thus informed to wake up earlier and make my own lunch. I decided to skip a mid-day grub in return for a few extra minutes of morning snooze. Nevertheless, on the rare occasion we had cold cuts and cheddar cheese, I'd brown bag it that day. Always opting for smoked turkey slices. We couldn't afford to buy such delicacies on regular bases. It was always a treat when the parchment wrapped packages of deli sliced meat and cheese appeared in the fridge. I'd make my infamous Amira Wraps, spreading cream cheese directly on the turkey meat, placing peeled slices of cucumber in the center, and rolling it up. I'd imagine that I was a refined socialite eating hors d'oeuvres at a soiree.

I continued to eat meat, a medley of beef and chicken, never warming up to lamb or mutton.   I enjoyed cooking with meat, incorporating a variety of spice blends to transform the cuts. I had a strong preference for chicken and turkey. Every special occasion was celebrated with a meaty center piece. Ramadan feasts were always infested with an array of meat dishes from Kofta, bread encrusted cutlets, fired chicken, to mince meat laced pasta, as if the only sustenance to combat our daily fast was meat.  Again, I enjoyed these dishes immensely. However, the older I got, the more difficult it became for me to digest meat, literary. It all started with McMeals. Yes, at the very ripe age of 37, I still enjoy the occasional Big Mac. After consuming a McBurger, my body would revolt. My forehead broke out in sweat, heart beat raced, and digestive system expanded with the strain of breaking down the alien ingredients. I wrote it off as post McDonald's stress. I noticed that these symptoms reoccurred, yet on a smaller scale, upon eating beef. I'd always follow my meat meals with a digestive aid of green tea, not sure if the relief was real or placebo. With every bite, it became harder and harder to ingest beef. I turned to chicken and fish for solace, chalking it up to old age.

In December 2011, I moved to Long Island, New York. With Brooklyn and Queens in the vicinity and a diverse Muslim community, there is an abundance of halal meat (as a Muslim, I can only eat meat that has been butchered and prepared in a certain manner). However, access to halal meat vendors is conditioned to owning a car. Having failed to obtain a US driver's license, I opted to become a vegetarian instead of commuting 2+ hours by train and bus to procure meat. Yet, on special occasions, I allowed myself to indulge as I recited Besemel Allah El Rahman El Raheem (in the name of God the merciful and compassionate) before scarfing down the sinful meat. One of such occasions was the Feast Holiday, celebrating the end of Ramadan. After a month of fasting, I decided to reward myself with a big juicy burger. I selected a local restaurant near my apartment in Rockville Center. I called in my order while at work to guarantee that it'll be ready for pickup on my way home. After two weeks have passed, I can finally bring myself to write about the traumatizing experience. The beef paddy was bland, tasteless and over cooked. The delectable onion rings, as described on the menu, turned out to be soggy thinly sliced fried onions. I spent the entire meal wondering what the white paste like sauce was, until the metallic aftertaste reminded me that the burger was promised to be dressed with a creamy horse radish condiment. The side fries were salty and stale. I was too hungry, with an empty fridge, to forgo this poor offering. Two hours later, indigestion set in. Had I not known better, I could have been fooled in assuming that I suffered a heart attack. A warm cup of ginger tea could have remedied my misery, but I was too disposed to make it. Fearing I was suffering from food poisoning and wouldn't be able to attend a book signing the next day, I tried to purge my body of the atrocious burger, but to no avail.  I woke up the next day feeling a bit better, yet I was cautious with what I ate. I had planned to go to the Shake Shack for lunch. I had grilled halibut instead. It is on that day that I decided to become a full time vegetarian, relegating my meat eating days of yonder to the memories of my wasted youth.

The Plight of a Mundane Life

Suit & Tie
Breakfast, Goodbye
Coffee on train
Commute, insane

Office, Chair
Computer, Despair
Meeting
Meeting
Meeting
Life fleeting
Hope depleting

Lunch
Grind
Boredom
Sublime

Home, to bed
Hope is dead
Reset to play
Again next day

The Myth of Hope

V2.0 Date: 28 Aug 2013

Kernel of Hope in a sea of despair
Breaks your heart apart, 
half Love, half Sorrow
Holding both within, side by side

Hope is cruel
Hope is harsh
Hope is gone

Darkness of lonely nights remains
Skies twinkle with memories past
Northern stars guiding the way
Follow blindly, what else to do?
Over a ledge, up a mountain
Same memories, different journeys
Never get what we hope for
Always get what we hope not
Accept who we are. Take life as it is
Death's the only truth, all else is chance

Hope is fake
Hope is wrong
Hope is gone

False hope of memories to come
A nightmare of lies concoct
To raise our fall up so high
We fall from hope, hope'll die
No hopes. No dreams.
No wants. No Needs
Hours, Days, Breaths, Beats
Till we breathe no more
Till we pump no blood

Hope to die
Hope to death
Hope's a lie

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V1.0 Date: 21 Aug 2013

A Kernel of Hope dropped in a sea of despair
Breaks your heart in two, half love, half sorrow
You carry both within you, side by side

Hope is gone, the darkness of lonely nights remains
Skies shine bright with smiles of memories you had
Northern stars guiding you through the dark forrest
You follow blindly. What else can you do? 
They'll lead your over a ledge or up a mountain
Same memories, different journeys
Darkness never leaves, happiness never comes

They keep you on track, despite you
Is it a betrayal? 
False hope of more memories
We continue but nothing comes

Egypt: Our Cinematic Heritage

When buying Egyptian gifts for foreigners, I prefer to stay clear of the usual pharaonic souvenirs. It seems unfair to narrow the many facets of Egypt down to one specific era. I have more than often opted for cotton t-shirts and unique wood art or silver accessories. I like the items to be visibly Egyptian, perhaps through design, color, or subject matter, but show casing a different side such as our sense of humor or Arabic roots.

I was fortunate enough to be in Cairo between June 22 and July 5 in 2013, during the ouster of The Brotherhood. My initial instinct was to gift my American friends a small replica of our Egyptian flag, the very same variety millions of Egyptians proudly carried during the marches. Having participated in the presidential palace stand ins, I must confess that my patriotic sense was in over drive. I finally settled on an assortment of items to demonstrate Egypt's diversity. The inevitable t-shirts found their way into an array of almond stuffed dates and hand crafted items, ensuring that I cater to the individual preferences of each recipient. Due to the political events, I only had a few hours on the very last day of the trip to complete my shopping. I made due with City Stars shopping mall in Heliopolis area. On the most part I was successful in my shopping spree  with the exception of one gift.

A US colleague of mine enjoys old black and white movies, with an affinity for musicals. I wanted to get him a DVD of one of the old Egyptian movies we used to watch on TV. I remember that the majority of those films, if not all, had both English and French subtitles. It would have been amazing to gift him the opportunity to experience the marvelous music of Mohamed Abdel Wahab or the powerful voice of Abdel Haleem Hafez, subtlety exhibiting the refined sophisticated beauty of the not-so-ancient Egyptian culture through the muted tones of the black and white footage, and disparaging the notion that we are rural hooligans roaming the desert on camel back in our third world country. I could only think of one place in City Stars to purchase such a DVD, Virgin Mega Store. Upon entering the establishment, I realized that it isn't so "Mega", with my favorite section in the store diminished to a corridor lined on one side with a measly collection of books. Nevertheless, I ventured to the inner most area where the CDs and DVDs are located. I was miserably disappointed with the selection of Egyptian films on display, a humble assortment of modern (i.e. colored) movies from the 70s and 80s, most of which were produced and distributed by Al Sobky, thus including no subtitles, or so I was informed by the shop assistant. I had to make due with a Lute medley of famous songs such as Ben Shateen wa Meyia.

Like the pyramids and other monuments, motions pictures and music have and will continue to shape our culture as a nation. Movies chronicle the history of the country in a much more vivid manner than written media. What are we doing to preserve these national treasures? For many years, there's been talk about a music museum named after Abdel Wahab and individual attempts to restore old movie negatives. I haven't been back to Bibliotheca Alexandrina since my first visit in 2002, yet shouldn't such establishments have cinematic and musical archives. Maybe The Cairo Opera House has already embarked on such efforts. However, I call on all Egyptian intellectuals to embrace this cause. I call on the ministry of culture to establish a cinema curation committee to work on the preservation of our national cinematic archives, a treasure trove of cultural gems such as Naguib Mahfouz's Trilogy, Al Bostagy (The Postman), Al Ard (The Land), and Bab El Hadid, to name a few. When The Cairo Film Festival is revived (I believe it should be, in due time), we should dedicate a section to the Egyptian and Arabic film heritage, juxtaposing the grace and beauty of those films with the coarse realities of current events and current movies. 

I am aware that Egypt, namely the government, has far more pressing issues with the frail economy and more than half the population living in poverty, but neglecting our cinematic artifacts will lead to the erosion of our cultural identity. Egyptian film legends such as Ismail Yassin and Youssef Chahine are as immortal and majestic as the Sphinx and thus deserve a similar place in our cultural repertoire.

I'm coming home

Been away for an eternity
365 days 
Been back for a few seconds
308 hours
Back for a visit, to stay I decline
Old and weary, my childhood home
cracks all over, the paint is gone
Ghost of the past lurk in the dark
Memories every where against the stark
No future. No hope.

A new addition has been appended
Walls splashed with red
Carpeted with bodies dead
My heart sinks as I step in
Offended with the stench of sin
I look at the red designs to realize
Not paint but blood of the fight
Brother fighting brother
Both to dominate 
Their voices rise above
To destruct. To hate.

We tape the cracks, hope they'll stand
We sweep the debris, collect the sand
At the addition, confused what to do
We build, they demolish
Our freedom, they abolish 
No where is sacred
No one is safe
We brace ourselves
We carry our pails
We step steadily into the room
Lift the corpse of life and doom
Wash away the blood, to see
Walls of glass that bleed

We scrub and pray the brothers unit
We scrub and pray they stop the fight
Rays of hope to come through glass
Enlighting the hallways and the paths
Usher in the future, recall the past
a Hope, a Dream
We pray to come true
a Hope, a Dream
Power of me and you

This is The End vs. Bridesmaids

Despite having much to do this past weekend between packing for my two-week trip back home to my beloved Egypt, laundry, cleaning, and last minute gift shopping, I carved out two hours on Saturday to see "This is The End". I confess that I had planned to see the apocalypse flick the moment I saw a teaser last December. Even with "The Man of Steel" being released on the same weekend, it was no contest. Seth Rogen and clan won hands down. Although much was left undone, I am happy that I chose to see This is The End. I was in need of a good laugh. The movie delivers on the comedy with a side of nostalgia (at least for me).

On Sunday, as I was sitting on a park bench, sipping my coffee and contemplating nothing, I realized that This is The End is Bridesmaids on testosterone. I don't suppose Rogen and Goldberg - who co-wrote and directed This is The End - realized the parallels between the two films. If they did, I guess they didn't expect any audience crossover. Maybe I simply envisioned these similarities, nevertheless below is my rational, and beware they include spoilers for both flicks: 

• This is The End is marketed as an apocalypse action comedy, yet the foundation of conflict is based on Seth and Jay's deteriorating relationship due to Seth's ascension into the Hollywood crowd while Jay remains in their Canadian homeland. At the end their friendship is reshaped and reinstated by the apocalyptic events. Similarly, Bridesmaids was marketed as a raunchy female driven comedy in which Kristen Wiig's relationship with her childhood best-friend Maya Rudolph is crumbling as Maya's status is upgraded to engaged/ married woman while Kristen remains in the slums of singlehood. The relationship is further strained then strengthen during the planning of an apocalyptic wedding. 
• Further driving a wedge between the two friends is a pretentious 3rd party trying to encroach themselves onto the more affluent friend and edging out the other. At the end, this fraud is led to show their true colors and face an ill fated doom. The ever delectable James Franco is the pretentious artsy completely useless actor in This is The End. He keeps a food stash and monopolizes a Milky Way bar. At the end, Franco's soul is not redeemed but left to be ravished by Danny Mcbride and Channing Tatum. In Bridesmaids, Rose Byrne imposes on Maya's wedding preparations, pushing Wiig to the sidelines, only to fail in keeping the bride happy. At the end she resorts to Wiig to bring stability to the wedding. Coincidentally, Franco and Byrne co-stared together in "Dead Girl"
• At the beginning of This is the End, Seth and Jay bond over their favorite pass time, smoking weed. While Maya and Wiig engage in pastry consumption, as carbohydrates is women's weed. We love indulging in carbs although we know that no good can come of this gratification. Let's face it, Gluten is bad for you !
• Jonah Hill and Ellie Kemper are the too goody two shoes with something sinister simmering under the lid. Danny Mcbride and Wendi Mclendon-Covery are the foul mouths we love to hate. Craig Robinson and Melissa McCarthy are the misunderstood sweet hearts who hide a gooey center under a hard-shell facade, not unlike a Milky Way.
• Bathroom humor in Bridesmaids vs. Male Masturbation humor in This is The End.
• A wedding gone wrong is a female version of an apocalypse. A wedding done right is a female version of heaven.
• Both movies end with a scenic dance and sing along to a 90s hit with guest appearances from the bands. Perfectly aligned, the all girl band Wilson Philips belt out "Hold On" in Bridesmaids, while boy band Backstreet Boys are summoned to heaven with a Everybody prelude in This is The End. Sadly, I know the lyric to both songs, and thus the nostalgia. (Why did it say NKOTB rule on the chalk board ?)

In summation, This is The End is nothing more than a male version of Bridesmaids. That being said, I must confess that I prefer Seth Rogen over Kristen Wiig. I paid to watch This is The End, yet opted to catch Bridesmaids on cable. I laughed harder and thoroughly enjoyed This is The End. Not sure if this speaks more to the quality of both movies or my skewed personality. However, when the end is here, whether doomsday or wedding day, I wouldn't mind having James Franco by my side for either.