To hang on a wall of my empty room,

I think I will need a picture of rain.

Hitting the ground, and springing up to ankles,

Rain wets the socks and trousers from below.

My eyes chase along

Roof-edges, streets, sidewalks,

--tick, tick, tick--

Checking all, one by one,

To find a dark brolly,

And a woman in black enamel shoes,

Lightly treading the...

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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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