And what is life, if not a series of choices made in the void?
They teach us that the path is clear,
but there is always fog where we try to see.
And still, we walk.
Not knowing if each step is right or wrong,
not knowing what defines us, beyond the present moment.

I wonder: how does one decide what to do?
The world is so vast, and the possibilities, infinite.
But what is this thing they...

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In the vast plains of time, where the wind is lost
Man, with curious eyes, gazes at the horizon
And in the infinity of the sky, which stretches beyond being
Possibilities blossom, like stars in a distant night

What will become of me, in the paths of chance?
Which road, by the moonlight, will stretch before my step?
I feel in my chest the pulsing desire of a vast dream
But doubt, like fog,...

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On the empty wall of my room

I think I'll put a picture of the rain. --

Hitting the ground,

And getting up to ankles,

The rain will be wetting my socks

And trousers from below;

Then my eyes will follow

Roof-edges,

Streets,

Sidewalks,

...tick, tick, tick...

Everything in the picture,

Until catching a black brolly,

And the shiny enamel shoes...

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Translation of my Arabic Poem (“The Choice”) 

Who, in the World, chooses his birth? 
Who chooses his family and children? 
Who chooses his fate and country? 
Who chooses the time to go to heaven? 

But it is possible to choose our day 
To sincerely care about family and work 
This will be the first right step to our future 
To achieve our goals while we're alive 

Your name and countr...

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Conniving madness-
ever in the wings- 
has come centre stage 
strutting with a stick 
with which to stir 
a pot of bile and fear

words and foto  Tommy Carroll 

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