Hello! Here is a poem I wrote after our trip to London last week. Listen to the audio to learn the short background story of it.
⚘ ⚘ ⚘
This is for Michel.
Habibe, the doctor, the funcle,
The dearest friend.
You don’t go to the movies to watch a horror film, because you grew up in Lebanon, and as you said, you watched it in 3D already.
I am writing a poem dedicated to you,
to your generosity, your dignity, your positivity and your care –
But I don’t really need to write it,
Just to jot down things you say to me and the GIFs you send to us in our WhatsUp group.
Cakes and candles.
Remember that dancing little boy GIF? Or a Dumbo one?…
Michel, I want to say to: please don’t change. Thank you for being you.
I am aware, habibe, that I am saying it publicly, that we are taking it out very openly,
And yes, it is
intentional.
Michel, we might not win the Euromillion, we might not move to that Chicago loft apartment all together and get a really big dog… I don’t even know if we will ever travel to Lebanon together, or to Russia, you know how these things are.
But you are a British citizen now, imagine, no more visas really, and an amazing doctor, and have so many more wonderful roles.
And there are topics we do and we don’t talk about,
we don’t have to, and we tiptoe around some of them just to be careful.
But there is always this buttery baklava, and zaatar, and labneh from Lebanon, and we are good, habibe, we are good.
In a way, I am writing a poem of optimism, of reassurance, of acknowledgement. And there can’t be too much of that, dear funcle.
Remember, we were all walking in Hyde Park and you shared that clinical study with me, saying that people lived the longest when they had deep and meaningful connections? The most significant factor to longevity, that is.
Michel, I want to thank you for showing me that friendship can be deep and profound, while easy at the same time. I am aware, we are sharing it publicly, habibe.
Because, you know, what? The world deserves to know it too! It’s the time for exclamation marks, habibe, for the dancing boy GIFs and for one cheeky Avatar episode on Netflix. Maybe, we will even buy a lottery ticket or finally smoke that hookah… Because when, if not now, my friend?
Keep this poem somewhere around, and let’s look back at it in 20 years at least. Let’s see what they will do with these politics, these borders, this inflation. Cost of Living Crisis.
Meanwhile: we will eat another mango or two, make a short trip to a Greek island, finally decide which element bending power we all gravitate to. Yalla, pame, let’s go now. Enough being said, enough vulnerabilities… but you will keep the poem, right?
Gorgeous or not, briefly or not — here I exist. And Christos exists. And you exist. There is aways something larger than us out there, but we are large too — large and alive.
— Morley House, ‘UNTITLED. Act I: MANUSCRIPT’
