Poems by Mohammed Gaddafi

I watch it, it doesn't rain

I come taken, with what

I carry from certainty

then after the disappointment

except the dream.

on the verge of a tale

seagull fell, in

the water.

boiling the messages

the end invisibility

palm trees, are falling

in the valley of the flutes

were broken our lips on

the sight of her gaze .

gather firewood

bleeding sun

selled the horizon

at auction .

lump from barking

the happiness

divides the laughter itself

on itself

who closes the door of , a-ha

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