What Am I Supposed To Say Or Do? ! Poem by nadia abduljabbar

What am I supposed
To say, or do,
Before this flow
Of love songs and kisses,
And I am only
A woman in Arabia.
It is true I am a brave woman
And Khadijah is my model,
But I cannot propose,
Because our time
Is not as pure as the prophet's,
Peace be upon him and all
The other prophets.
Deprived of love, care, and kisses
For more than three decades,
But still I can do nothing.
And if you insist on just singing,
I will forget the whole issue,
For I do not know yet:
You are a new HOPE,
Or a new wound.

Sir……….baby:
Our brief encounter
Was not by a chance,
It was a plan by destiny;
By the Only ONE who knows
What we need
And when we need
What we need.
When we are on the verge
Of totally losing hope,
When we reach to a line
close to despair;
We find it there,
May be it is a Test,
And may be
A GIFT;
Time will show which is which.

I could not forget the eye gaze;
So transparent; it said all in seconds
How could a poetess miss
A gaze as such? !
And it transmitted
The feeling to me;
The child innocence
Reached me, though
I swore to God never let
A man reach me.

But your eyes reached me,
Your hitting your chest and sides
Looking for a pen to write my advice,
Reached me as well.
The love action was so spontaneous;
Only God knows how much,
I like spur reaction.
I looked down and I saw the arms,
I was charmed,
I tried to move my face away,
And I saw the slender tall body,
And I was so much charmed,
I raised my eyes and I saw the light hair
With few silverfish hair like feathers,
And I noticed the Arabic nose,
And I was further and further charmed,
And I think at that particular moment
If I looked at your feet and slippers,
I would have been charmed.
You repeated ‘white cheese’
And began to eat,
I knew not who was melting
Between your tongue and teeth,
Me or the cheese.
In my heart I said, baby
My presence encouraged
Your appetite for food; for life.
Could not I bear the electricity
Of the vibration of your restlessness
Caused by my presence,
Your gestures and your body language
Were just too much for me to take.

So, I left the room in a hurry,
Leaving no clue about me
And knowing nothing
About you except the name;
And even the name,
I was not so sure
I heard it well;
The eruption that was going on
Inside me; inside my blood,
Heart and head;
At that moment prevented me
From thinking as I should.
At that time I was a woman
Trying hard to have control
On her thirsty senses,
Under a big surprise prepared
By The Most Merciful.

And what more can I do?
For I am just a Muslim woman
Living in Arabia,
And was born in Makkah.
And I love Allah or God
And I chose to worship Him
Out of LOVE before FEAR.
Forgive me: I ran away from you
Before knowing nothing about you,
And what else can I do,
I am a true Muslim woman from
Arabia and was born close
To The Grand House of God.

Later, I regreted not talking
A little more with you,
I tried to make it up,
But you did not respond,
I said, to myself,
Then it was a crush
Not true love. And I tried to
Forget the sleepless dreamy nights
And the eruption of my blood.
I began to analyze:
Such a man can buy a much
Younger and prettier modern woman,
So why should he care for
A middle aged religious woman? !
But can he buy feelings
And the sudden attraction
That took place when we met?
Of course not. There are things
That all the money of the world
Can not buy such as true Love.
Yet, I tried to forget,
For you did not respond.

For two days, I did not sleep well,
My heart And BODY WERE PULLED
Between heat and coldness
Then I decided not to open your page
Again for fear of hurting myself.
I expected
You to try to connect in a way or another,
But you did not. I made a quick search,
I even took the risk and
Open the door for you to read
My way of thinking,
Yet, I got no comment.
Then and only then I totally quit.
And what else can I do,
For I am just a woman in Arabia?
One day, baby when you are
In my arms cuddled like a child
You will curse;
your fear for your prestige,
It does not deserve delaying
True happiness and all this dread.
No fright should postpone amour,
For delaying love could kill it.

Some weeks ago a relative of yours
Mentioned you before me,
I think she did that deliberately,
So I opened your page again
After the absence of many months.
I found a discussion on polygamy,
I do not know how serious you were,
But not all women bite co- wives.
I like to whisper in your ear,
Sir:
I am dumb
When it comes to playing games,
I just can’t use roundabout ways,
I am too direct for this
Deceptive time,
Call it lack of social cleverness,
call it innocence, call it
Lack of training in modern life,
Or think I am not cultured enough,
But this is the way I am created,
And I hope you are not playing
, With me, Games.
Since childhood I used to become
Numb and dumb, when forced
To play games, especially in Feasts;
Before, We -children- go to the Fun Fairs,
And all the other games.
I am good in telling jokes,
I am good in many fields of arts,
But I am no good in playing games.
May be I am a test and may be a GIFT;
God's Gift,
Time will tell which is which.


27 March.2013


nadia abduljabbar

Submitted: Wednesday, March 27,2013

Saturday 30 March