8252006atSurryInn-viewfromdiningroo.jpg picture by insightoutside
View from the Surry Inn (Maine 8/25/2006) — photo by Jesus Crisis

Disoriented piece
by Aline Rahbany

I breathe your voice
I feed on your facial expressions
I make a living
Out of daydreaming about you
And writing my reveries
In my red notebook
I seek sunrays
Lighting up your features
Collect them, in small pieces
Hide them under my pillow
And at night
When it is dark
I amass them in a mug
Water them with
My delirium
And slurp them
Like milk
And then I am able to sleep
With a piece of you
Living inside of me
Until tomorrow’s sun is up

* * *

© 2009 by Aline Rahbany, all rights reserved
included in the Crisis Chronicles Online Library with the poet’s permission

She writes:

I dream. I dream when people are not watching. My dreams exist some place in the air – written in a dashing way. All I do is grab the air with my hands, wash my face with it, let it penetrate my body straight into my soul; only to come out in the form of words. A dreamer who puts her  imaginings in words and plays on filtering them as an attempt to create her own little world. I only started translating my thoughts into writing recently. Upon taking writing as a way to escape from reality, I never knew I would go this far. My writings are pure thoughts and “raw emotions” mainly exploring different aspects of the human being. When I am not dreaming, I am another 24 year old distorted person living in Lebanon and indulging in – down to earth – humanitarian field of work for the past two years. I have been published in Shoots & Vines, Opium Poetry 2.0, Black-Listed Magazine, Eviscerator Heaven and soon in Calliope Nerve.