Is this the faceless man,
dressed in smoke ?
One minute he appears
and the other,
disappears in a
cloudy fog...
One minute,
his shadow silhouette
reclines
on satin cushions,
holding to his lips
a silver goblet
flowing with red,
red wine
pressed from Love stanzas
and the other,
he is a beggar with no abode,
erring in the wilderness,
searching for crumbs...
Is this the faceless man
out of a thousand
ethereal nights
a king with no palace
a warrior prisoner
in his own fortress,
fortress of bricks
and steel wire
wires turning
to ink,
and the faceless man
becomes poet...
A poet in a jasmin
perfumed garden
contemplating
a starry night,
visiting him
with prose,
carried by a tired
evening breeze...
Is that the faceless man,
sailing on
unfriendly tides,
taming the unnameable
or is he just
a supplicant in the Ka'aba
drowning himself in a sea
of pleas and prayers...
Is that the faceless man
or some magician
changing hats
bright colored hats
that fly away
and evaporate
like his face
in a thick smoke...
Painting : Iraqi artist, Saad Ali.
