Interpretation by Novid Shaid, 2011
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Qul Ya Azeem!
Antal Azeem!
Qad Hammana!
Hammul azeem!
Wa qullu shayin hammana!
Yahunu bismika Ya Azeem
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Resting on earth
Living so free
There lies a man
Content in poverty
Nowhere to turn
Nowhere to hide
Raising his hands,
He calls to the sky
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Chorus: Qul Ya Azeem!
By Novid Shaid, May, 2011
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Presenting events like a melodrama or soap
Rousing the masses against an abominable terror
Offloading opinions disguised as facts and info
Promoting a world view pervasively, drip by drip
Anchoring key words with an infamous persona
Generating a narrative against a villain so big
Alarming the populace with growing hysteria
Nurturing nationalism, dissension frowned upon
Dividing the world for a self-serving dividend
A closed group persists and prevails through media.
By Novid Shaid, 2011
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I am somebody. Jesse Jackson.
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I may be an alien
Someone who doesn’t look right
I may be whiter than snow
Or my skin blacker than the night
My face may repulse you
You shudder at my sight,
But I am still, SOMEBODY
A message from a boy in heaven to his parents
by Novid Shaid, 2010
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Dear Mother and Father, do not fret or fear,
For I’ve returned to the Lord of Honour and Might.
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Although you’re yearning for me with each painful tear,
Know that I’ve returned to the Lord of Honour and Might.
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by Novid Shaid, April, 2011
The uprising
upsurges, escalating,
preparing the ground for
a ground breaking
an earth-shattering
downfall
By Robert Warrenjehad Denser and Anna Arabaiter Cooltar
If the man on the moon were a Mozlem!
Why, I sure wouldn’t be so surprised.
Coz everywhere you step in our nation
There be mosques and their holy cries!
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We let them into our blessed borders,
Gave em chances that they never woulda got.
Coz they come from the land of the A Rabs!
From their sultanic satanic despots!
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Musty fumes belch out
of Kabul’s downtown sprawling mass
of rambling rickshaws, tooting Toyotas,
trotting horse drawn carts,
heaving and straining
with the weight of rotting carcasses
and the salvaged wreckages of time.
Like
an
inexorable
river
thundering,
gaining in momentum, swelling,
the multifarious world events flow to a waterfall,
spraying
into
the
tributaries of time.
Some drops plummet
like weighty rocks
shattering our surfaces
but other drops
float and slide
restoring unity.
Then foam rises
resurrecting from
the impact of reactions,
forming
convoluted clouds
or arresting apparitions
Before we evaporate into the ether,
Will we fall, or burst, or saturate?
Will we merge, or clear, or emanate?
By Novid Shaid, 2003
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Using language
is like painting pictures
and shaping sculptures
in endlessly renewable ways.
by Novid Shaid, 2006
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The screaming of my child,
As she dies of hunger and thirst,
Has destroyed my taste for life
And stuffed me full of emptiness.