Talk To Me

I don't ask you to know things. I ask you to hear your voice. Facts are not that important; they are the products of circumstances and dynamics in our lives that keep changing and produce new facts at every interval. What is important is who we are at a given point in time. And a big part of who we are is in our voice; in how we say what we need to say. Because what we say today will change tomorrow but who we are gives voice to the predicament of our existence. And that is the essence of living and a big part of life.

Stock Market Notes IV: Trading Systems

My latest note on the stock market and exchange sector in Mondo Visione at

http://www.mondovisione.com/index.cfm?section=news&action=detail&id=87932

Stock Market and Exchange Sector

My quotes in today's Financial Times on the Nasdaq Dubai / Dubai Financial Market merger and the listing of DP World's shares on the London Stock Exchange...

http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/79851bce-faf0-11de-94d8-00144feab49a.html

broken

when i kissed her

blood started dripping

from my lower lip

it was a gentle touch

of the flesh

but her face

was a broken mirror

reflecting a shaken image

of you

the ink i filled my pen with

refused to touch the paper

no matter how hard

i tried to negotiate the lines

the words smiled at me

sadly

then disintegrated

it was not a question

of writing a letter

that refused to be written

sitting at the edge of the universe

does not bode well

even though at times

we don’t have a choice

especially if we were born

there

we break too many doors

trying to get in

and when one opens

gently

you are not there

because who you were

crashed against the hard surface

i have become

so go ahead

throw your scarf in the river

it will float for some time

then sink

no one will see it after that

but you will know it’s there

and that will be your poem

the cheapest wine

that yellow flower

you gave me

lighted my days

and afterwards

i could not understand

how the color turned blue

it defied many logics

something broke

and the shards pricked my feet

i was suspended in a space

of my own making

the climb down

was the longest journey

the deafening sound

in my ears

was of a waterfall

and i could not speak

it was not what you wore

that i disliked

but what you wrapped yourself with

was wearing thin

and the nakedness underneath

alarmed me

there were no writings

on the wall of that cave

nothing came out

and it smelled like an ending

our last meal

was a hand rolled cigarette

all crumpled

and left out to dry

because the cheapest wine

i tasted from your lips

Honor Killings II

my reply to comments on my article on honor killings at link below...

http://www.opendemocracy.net/5050/majd-shafiq/there-is-no-honour-in-‘honour-killing’

http://www.opendemocracy.net/5050/majd-shafiq/there-is-no-honour-in-%E2%80%98honour-killing%E2%80%99

Dubai Debt Crisis

My commentary on this at link below...

http://www.mondovisione.com/index.cfm?section=news&action=detail&id=87035