An undergraduate by dawn and an aspiring poet by dusk, I find divinity in each form of art, constantly catching myself playing a Frank Sinatra record on a loop whilst admiring a Gaudi architectural masterpiece.
I am a writer that derives from Palestinian roots, an old soul yet vivid and full of life, a young, lost man in search for peace and sanity, hopeful of spreading love and amity with words sincerely crafted with sheer frankness and passion.
If you’re interested in reading more of my work, or merely knowing more about me, I am always in reach throughout my social media accounts or email:
Email: Laithbilal12@gmail.com
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Photo credit: Nick Scheerbart
Waltz of the Winter
By Laith Bilal
Dying orchids spring
at the feet of blooming darlings
on a shivering sidewalk;
They embrace divine disaster,
their inevitable noble end
with a timeless chassé,
a swirl of joy
leading to a jolly death.
And as the lovers hold one another
in warm stillness
winter,
Il virtuoso,
Waltz on.
Photo credit: Allef Vinicius
Messages to an Unrequited Love
By Laith Bilal
I hope that he,
who your heart finds comfort with,
is a thoughtful gentleman.
That holds your purse, heels, and whatever may trouble you
while whispering love into your hand.
I hope that he,
who your soul harmonizes with perfectly,
always holds you for a dance.
Even when fate sings with sadness,
even when life plays no music at all.
I hope that he,
hopelessly falls for you
every time your skin bewitches him to.
I hope that he,
will sense your pain
when your crooked smile doesn’t
say the same.
Photo credit: Cole Hutson
Our Daisies
By Laith Bilal
These kisses you feed me,
they water my mouth no more.
These dancing shoes you brought me,
They only made my feet sore.
Ungratefully, you swallowed every rose I had to offer,
As each lung of mine had a garden in store.
Soaking our daisies with pouring uncertainty,
Forsaking its pure, lingering scent of amour
Photo credit: Hakim El Haj
Ruminations
By Laith Bilal
Every timeless time,
an everlasting and charming forever.
A pianist’s fingertips,
each touch of yours: a souvenir to treasure.
Vocals of an angel,
each word you cast is a heartfelt love letter.
Every wondrous moment with you dear
leaves me nostalgic for the other.
Maybe if my eyes were shut tighter,
maybe if I held onto you better,
my troubled heart would feel put,
thus never compelled to question whether
it was true love I felt for your drenching rain
or merely the fear to wither.
Photo credit: Hakim El Haj
Somewhere
By Laith Bilal
Somewhere between us
Between an eclipse and a moon coy to shine
Between your bittersweet lips and mine
Between a hello, a goodbye
A laugh, a cry
A hurtful truth, a heartfelt lie
A thrill to live, a will to die
A heartbeat, an eye-to-eye
I have lost myself,
Somewhere between you and I.
Photo credit: Peroculus
We Were Young
By Laith Bilal
We were young-
smoking roses,
bleeding cigarettes.
We were young-
dreaming, hopeless,
playing mute cassettes.
We were young-
perhaps too young
to ever understand
that life is one alluring lady
with every kind of demand.
We were young-
perhaps too young
to ever understand
that this stage we staunchly stood upon,
trembling, was a bit too grand.
We were young-
and shall always be,
until the sky seems bland.
Photo credit: Alannah Bowes
Reveries of a Ballerina
By Laith Bilal
On the coldest of nights
The ballerina would dance, || barefoot,
with not a sway of harmony,
holding her patched heart in petite hands,
as she tailors dreams with pure ecstasy.
Beholding the blue horizon,
above the clouds,
eyes that sparkle restlessly,
humming the world into peace, perhaps.
A fine, celestial melody –
On the coldest of nights,
the fair little lady
would dance and dance!
Pirouetting among shattered hopes,
fragments of crimson reveries.
Still she frolics with wounded feet!
Full of glass;
Triumphant cries!
Unorthodox lullabies!
Composing the world into peace, perhaps.
A fine, || yet unheard melody.
Photo credit: Riley Mccullough
Constellation
By Laith Bilal
Your eyes sparkle with dying dreams
Face structure of an unfinished masterpiece
You’re the voice of the weak
Sweet blasphemy
Words I never dared to speak
A bewildering cold poem recited with love
As rivers of passion flow down your cheek.
You are beauty within scars
A sensation
A daydream
A bedazzling, breathtaking constellation of stars.