Saif Al Rahbi
From My Room To The Café
In the morning when I wake up,
the world wakes in my head
with creatures and screams smashing my bones.
I leave my room -
it's like a cave filled with the slain -
and shuffle off to the café.
I look intently at my cup - it's like a snake
relaxing on a summer afternoon
and think: 'This is my last cup in this city! '
But morning is still at its outset,
and I'll have to go through wars and kisses
and will only discover their flavour
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Comments about this poem (From My Room To The Café by Saif Al Rahbi )
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