Anissa Sboui, a poet and a university teacher from Tunisia. The writer of 6 volumes in English and Arabic languages.
I am
I am the doctor Who will heal your pangs, Cure your lingering headaches, and help you bear the whips and scorns of life… I’m the architect Who will design your spiritual map With the blessed key, you can survey the effect In impish glee, your lips will clap I’m the electrician The superhero who’ll install lighting To help you see my 5D spirit of love With thirsty eyes, you capture me, Downloading my minute features onto your digital memory I’m the weather forecaster To safeguard you from the snow storm And the roaring wind, Making it easy for you to stand up in Like these lines, you won’t be shaking, Or walking against the impassable streets… I’m the singer To charm your life with conjunct melodies, To use my soothing voice to lull you, And read lyrics softly for your sanity I’m the author, Who’ll make you the play’s protagonist, Neither as villainous as Claudius, Nor as a rogue and peasant slave as Hamlet, But as the Student in the two-scene Medieval secular Play…
The Elixir of Life
Ink and liquid Fell in love Like the ego and id One below, the other above. Ink and liquid Do converse On the bed Releasing sweet sound True and loud Immerse Inside outside Penetrate Deep and hard. Open the door A virgin paper On the floor Scattered away Invade it more Up and down Swaying, rolling On the pillow. Feeding fantasme Reaching orgasm Perfect match, From first touch Our bodies: rolling, swinging, Bubbling, bouncing Full of ink, Fill in my blanks Circle me Put me in the right form, Reorder my distorted past, Reshuffle my body fast, Devour the curriculum From speaking Reading To writing So write … More inks, Revive me My clitoris does shrink, Swallowing your penis Containing, tickling it Smiling, laughing, My two lips ARE Your star, I am Your tipsy star. The color of our skin, Turns pale to pink Never call it a sin Listen to heart beats, Read eye-contact, Paraphrase unconscious whispers Speak to my liberated soul. Jot down words, Sift unclear sighs, Edit me, correct Your final draft to resurrect. Full of inks your is, You did write, yes you did See all this liquid, Soft, smooth transition Into the vigina. Write my tall, hard pen My hands grasping your neck Check if it hurts, check! My legs around your back, Like a monkey clinging To the tree Or a new mother holding Her premature baby You stick to me We both fell dizzy What a memorable ecstasy!