The characteristic of the modern poem is that it flares on the event and its history, to survive the time-bound moment and space. In addition, it is always prone to disintegration.[1]This distinction between the incident and its irration, despite the avoidance of the event, we find that it has the capacity to consume, as soon as it is surrounded and circumvented and spread in its fabric, to prevent the appearance of elements that constitute its technical identity; and to help the reception process to induce the event outside the text of any representational manner within the text, above the event more robust and clearer, and to report any expression of any relevant substantive formulation.[2]And so we don't send word to his senses, we stop in front of the Noah son mask.Hope of Dingle and the knowledge of the courier.The heart of the event or changing the perspective of the vision is a creative necessity, so that it can be sent as a new vocal event, with the ability to influence, open to continuous deliberation, linked to life contexts and realities, and this has emerged in different historical contexts of the two experiments, so we find the divergences that reflect a deep reading of the event ' s plurality of culminations.

The ruler's vocabulary, the vocabulary, the vocabulary, and the ultrasound of the artifacts, the brushing of the sorrow, and then the brushing of the cloth, the squeezing of the sorrow, the sternity of the sternity, the stuntling of the cliff.

Good conscience.

The reversal of the world ' s modern potential and its velocity through its linguistic effectiveness, so the criticism of its importance and role in the building of the literary sex, each sex that seeks a homophobia scheme, and Jakobson refers to its close association with different races, the various functions, the inspirational hair is about the conscience of the alien, and the morality of the word.

The unscrupulous conscience of the scholar, the conscience of the speaker, played a role in the prominence of self-production, as well as its effective achievement of the inspiration of another non-famous presence, addressed to him, while the sound calibration between I am the sad poet in the poem of Hope Ding, and I am the mask and diversity of the narratives in order to achieve the desired dramatic balance.

We also note that the correlation between poets and humanistics is evident in the column of Al-Sadi, where the text of the contemporary human crisis and the fact that it occurred in the past, which calls for another endeavor, while the humanitarianism of the Budddhista unleashes the national dimension, in the context of the concept of citizenship, which is separate from the religious reference, so as to reject the position of the Nhuah ' apos; apos; idah ' s son ' apos; idah ' s religion as ab.

There's the wise guys running towards the ship.

The singers, the Messiah of the Prince-Mrabun, the judge, his kings.

The sword bearer, the temple dancer, when her borrowed hair was lifted, the importers of the cable trucks, the princess' lover in his prestigious female name came to the ends of Noah.

These cowards are fleeing to the ship.

While I was...

It was city youth.

They feed the wild water horses.“[3].

The paradox plays its part in the previous section, where two opposite voices overlap through the word of the wise, which bears the view of the deserters to justify their subjugation and their reluctance, while the perspective changes at the end of the segment and the image of the son of Noah itself, when they describe their cowardly truth, and the diversity of their creators plays their role in breaking the intersection between the script and the religious platforms, where it is carefully revealed.

Speed time.

In terms of sardine time, the time frame is based on retrieval, where the time of the story is preceded by the time of the speech, and with the rise of the self voice in its dialogue, the time is ripe to the temporal present, which calls for a new endurance, the point where the narrative shift turns from the angle to the vocabulary to the vocabulary.

His club and sound threads are rising. Is on the ship, my lord.

I called them all.

And I asked him, old lady, who survived your unit, and the rest fell?

Through the dialogue in question, it is clear to the son, in asserting the uniqueness of the perspective and the singular vision, while the other party remains silent, but the combination of the elements of the description gives us a picture of this Sheikh, so hearty at the relationship level.

Will you rest?

And how do you start this universe again and you let the boy and the ripper rip?

Self-evidently emerges from and follows up on many questions, which, while counterfeited by their creation, make the poem go through the movement consistent with self-expression and its search for salvation, and as dialogue takes one direction, the consensual and adversarial referrals make the poem a dramatic dimension, with no renunciation of enchantment.

Before death, how we narrowed my eyes, and the eye of death widens.

And in your eyes, the eyes of your child, the games and the fun.

………………………………………………

All the details went through the imaginations of the house, the parents, the trees gather.[4]

The mask poem is of a controversial nature, based on the presence of me, the poet and the absence of me, the mask and vice versa, in a balanced exchange movement, with the possibility of misappropriating the voice and conscience within the poem, entailing a retreat of self-sing, which keeps itself in traditional shapes such as musical, repetitive, optical formation, and all the poems that the poetry speaks in the same way.

What we affirm here is that the mask of the courier did not dissolve his clerical pattern without the emergence of an architectural feature that detonates him with evidence and relieves his singing without ignoring it, as did the vocal dichotomy by persuasing a role in shifting from direct expression to direct expression, direct speech, express meaning a sign of tacit meaning, mask and meaning on the surface, while left behind.

However, the visual composition and the activation of the markings in the Dangal text was richer, effective and linked to the rise in the dramatic pattern of poems. The existence of certain markings, such as bows, interceptive police and white areas, added another vote within the text to comment on personalities.[5]There is no doubt that visual formation is a narrative mechanism when the poet succeeds in recruiting it, while the couriers did not activate visual space, making it particularly in the retrograde monologue to move father-dominated passion.

[1] Saeed Bunkrad, Al-Saidi and Conceptual Refrigeration, Marks of 12, Morocco 2012, p. 31: 37

[2] Hatim al-Kahr, al-Ahtiya, al-Shaqiyah and al-Qa ' idah, al-Qa ' idah, al-Qa ' idah, al-Qa ' idah, al-Qa ' idah, al-Qa ' idah, al-Sha ' al-Qa ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Atam al-At al-At al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Sha ' al-Ah, al-Ah, al-Ah, al-Ah, al-

[3] Hope Denzel, full work, Public Authority for the Shortages of Culture, Cairo 1998, p. 408.

[4] I know the courier, the towel, the site of the poem Dotcom.

[5] See the detail of that in the Seid al-Sarawi study, searching for the impossible pearl, the East Cairo House, 1996.

You make poetry. Canadian Aisha One of the high-profile young voices in the U.S. nasal hair, and one of the symbols of the poem that have been able to combine authenticity with contemporaryism, between self-examination and collective conscience, in a language of emotions, memory and whining. Manamat. It is this overwhelming presence of time as a memory, anxiety and a retrieval of the past, so that hair then becomes a way to preserve the moments of loss and reach, the details of life that are melted over time, and the self that you seek meaning in the passage of the past at present.

In the poems of religion, time is manifest not as a background to events, but as a hairy, vibrant and hungry, it does not deal with the past as an end-of-life, but as part of its internal entity, it restores time not to fill it, but rather to rebuild it in poetic images, combining the inspiration and absence of memory, the old places, the friends, and the warming.

Says a monster in a poem. His keys:

I love your dirt.

And wait for your return and open it.

Spring of the age.

Explain and give me buy it.

I had your doors slipped.

And penetrating missed his keys.

This is where the poet turns the emotional relationship into a symbol of the beautiful time that has passed, it doesn't just show the spear of love, it reflects the depth of belongings when you say, «I love your dust.»- What? Love turns into the extension of my soul to earth and memory. "Your rose and its opening." It's waiting for the inner spring, to go back to the first time of emotion, and when you say, «Was about me locking your doors, and the lock missed his keys.»She shows her consciousness of loss, like she's touching the impossibility of restoring the past.

The inspiration in the hair of the Canadian armament is an internal energy that moves the text, not only a whining to the lover or the homeland, but extends to the first self, to innocence, beginnings and simple days.

In some of its poems, we find a monster that speaks the past as if it is a close person; occasionally, she smiles at him and sometimes, but she does not renounce her emotional attachment to it, that association creates a unique hair situation, as the mourning turns into an instrument of expression of identity, and a means of preserving the diversity of customs, language and sentiment.

You say poetry in a poem. Rain and Riad.:

The time for me is my flood.

And, oh, crap.

His diet runs through me.

And he wants to go down.

The Canadian Beast highlights its deep philosophical vision of time, it doesn't look at it as a punishment for days, it's a volatile state of conscience. «It's time for me without it. It's gloomy.»- What? To point out that life without a time is dark, with it swings between hardship and satisfaction, and then comes through the sign. «His supply stream is multiplier and is dropping.» In order to make time a changing river, unpredictable, at a moment of tendering and in another receding through this water imaging, the poet reflects a profound human experience in the face of life fluctuation, where time becomes a partner in conscience, with a stretch and a carrot, joy and dissolved, but it remains the framework within which it is self-contained and secure.

The language of the Canadian Nabatian Worm enjoys its spontaneousness and honesty, but at the same time it has a strict technical awareness that makes it capable of transforming the accent into a high poetry language, using the unique heritage with caution and intelligence, preparing statues and folk symbols through religion to make it an intergenerational bridge, as if it is rebuilding past language in the present, so its poems are common ground.

In many of its texts, the same poet faces in the mirror of time, so the poem seems to be the scene of an internal dialogue between "I" and "I" present, which produces a deep awareness of loss, but at the same time it gives the poet the ability to reconcile with change, as if she realizes that the passage of time does not erase memories, but reshape them within the heart, from here comes a long life of calm that does not cause.

Canadian says in a poem.The pill.“:

I wish you couldn't get back.

I'd be near you near my neck for the neck.

And wish me the idea of your absence, I promise.

It was my intention of losing you and Sid.

Try to pull the saddle.

As a living, and you want to promise.

The poet is most oblivious and rejected to lose, expressing her inability to adapt to the distance by saying it. «I wish you couldn't get back.»- What? It's a wish in its envelope to protest against the cruelty of time, and then it connects proximity to sense and emotionalness when it says, «I wish you were near my neck for the neck.»- What? To make the love of the soul, and to meet a natural extension of her existence in the next few days, the voice of the inspiration grows until it turns into a transparent poetry. «It was my intention to lose you and Sid.»It makes the loss a metaphorous death, an alternate life, and the end of the video. «The clouds of grief are shattering. Cod lives the sun and the tide.» In the middle of the darkness, as if she sees crying as a rain that defuses memory and refreshs the sun, the poem becomes a prayer to restore a missing time, even in the dream.

It cannot be dissociated from the sense of national and human identity in the Canadian wax. When it speaks of a beautiful past or of homes that have left or from childhood, it actually paints a picture of the identity of its society in all its details: the sea, sand, social relations, old values, and voices that have been warmly filled.

In Aqfit, she says:

I stopped what I used to look at.

I touched our family.

For one of you, you always roll.

And the trouble you've got.

Get up to meet you and touch me.

And fathers in people and slopes.

She paints a wallpaper and a wallpaper of absence and impossible to go back to the past, where she says, «I didn't come back looking at me, and I touched our IVs.»It makes the loss a visual sight of the place without existence and warmth, here, the lover turns into a symbol of a long time gone, and the place to an empty memory with nothing but ransom, yet it remains in its conscience, remembering it with its hair to confirm that the past, despite its departure, still retains its moral character and human beauty. The cut end. «He's got to be on your feet, touches, stays in people and slopes.» Living in the dream and memory, awakening and touching on the loose end of the rendezvous, time becomes a closed circle of waiting and whining, not measured in days but in depth.

The poems of the Canadian Dream are not just a record of the past, but a celebration of it, a insistence that it stays alive in the eyes of the present, that it remain part of the blue hair profiles of the Emirates, whose poetic images are simplicity and humiliation, that they do not resort to ambiguity or complexity, but to the emotional truth that gives the image of its inner image, and use nature of its eternal glory, and eternal eternal eternity, and eternal glory symbols.

A monster that keeps the emotion, the warming of the accent and the honesty of the experiment, and this is a model for the nascent poet who has been able to express her own conscience in a language that preserves the spirit of the heritage and renews his presence in modern times, and perhaps that's what keeps her hair in, not just because it restores the past, but because it gives him a new life in the heart of the lung, and reminds him of the hair.

If it's a poet, what do you say?

The two most important places of the Arab poet in El Fajira, the Jordanian poet Abdallah Abu Shamis, which is based on the stereotyping of women from their marginalized or secondary positions in Arab Muslim history, religious and literary, and calling them back to the holy circles.

Diwans are 100 and 12 pages, with 12 poems, all with single addresses, not a composite address, and in single headings a sign of the interconnection, regularity and integration of poems in a decade that is surrounded by a richness and character in all its aspects, in terms of lighting each address of its characteristic features and complementarity. In addition to its poetic image in the commune of Jamil Ben Muammar, the author of the junta has undoubtedly used historical sources that have seen things from her circuit outside a beautiful mirror, as well as recent studies that have analysed her human personality and illustrated the social environment with which the poet ' s story has been framed.

In this poem, it is self-evident to say, to express itself, to go to a beautiful place that you describe as a poet, the first poem is a form of foundational speech, which is given a price for every location.

Give me the shot.

Some holes.

I run into it.

Heavy fine.

The second poem of religion is a poem, a poem, with the same value as it is, not as beautifully painted, and as poets then take a stereotypical picture of a paralyzed woman, a flower, a flower, and a rainy gem, saying to speak to poets:

Then you'll see.

From the search.

Speakers.

Believe in me.

As am I.

Not like a price.

Not like her name.

In the name!

It's a beautiful thing to say in the third poem, the invader, the inflammatory cash arrows, and his narcissism, which has prevented her from loving her natural love, apart from her haircuts, making her a subject of his poem.

Hey.

You don't like a price.

Unless the poems glow in you...

You touch me, you shine.

And run to the wilderness.

And the fourth point, the fire tells about the love that was born distorted by its mix of hair pollution that it had decided not to be approved by the Bedouin community in the village valley; the relationship between the two lovers was governed by a bad end, and they were not labeled unscrupulous and lost:

Both of us.

He missed himself.

And he went on the road to drink...

Both of us.

If he sees his face.

Without his boyfriend.

Be careful.

The fifth poem, Sham, shows the sound of a lover, the express expression of her beloved emotions, the boldness of her bloom with her lovers, the impulse of revealing her lipsticks on his journey from the Jazz to the Sham, destroying a picture of the price of the intractor he has devoted to a beautiful, swollen image, and utterly.

You're the one who set up a nirani.

And you honored me.

Here I go.

Like a clown.

In the night of Heaven.

The sixth poem, the Frost, is made clear of the bitterness generated by paradoxes in a rich and beautiful tale, and it's a bluntly beautiful marriage, asking a beautiful, beautiful lover to express a beautiful position.

You'll be long.

After a second,

But you will.

Beautiful.

You're gonna make it.

One more.

You hug her in poems.

You'll sing.

For her and for yourself.

A song you've been playing with.

Up my lap,

He's going to bloom.

And the night of the singer...

But, you see,

How much will you sing?

That one about me?

The 7th (cell) poem reveals a valuable face, an analyzed face of excuses of indignity, and at the same time its feminine feminine delusion, a foetus of her unscrupulous lover, and the invisibility of a priceless person in this poem, which strikes a frustration against her own identity.

Hurry, hurry.

Come on.

I want you.

In my hands.

Here.

Now!

You've gone too far.

In the shadow.

It's time to go back.

For colors.

Tonight.

We're getting married.

This virgin love.

And stab the deprivation chest.

The eighth poem, Elle, is a very valuable poem after time has spared her story with beautiful, and she has lived years later, her story has been shattered from the shadow of the distant past, with doubts in the minds of those who have not been so beautiful, who have never known a price in her trap, and her daughter ' s question of the validity of the story reveals how beautiful the woman is.

Beautiful.

I grew up a lot.

He didn't stay with me.

Just a drum.

In poems.

Looks like his eye.

Skunk.

The ninth poem (the river), in which it shows its narcissistic face against a beautiful narcissism and its excessive self-esteem, meets his male selfishness with her feminization, and responds to his exodus by his jealousy:

And the love I have is equal.

I don't.

Between who came yesterday.

And who will come tomorrow.

You were their master when you were.

The servant of my great river.

But...

A price.

You never had a master.

In the ten-year-old poem, she revels on her human face, just from the masks of the traitors I wear beautifully to her, and she begs her to wear it for the image of a cruelly emotionally consumed woman, and by revealing her fragility and weakness, if her lover asks her to share the same masks with him.

Beautiful.

What are you traveling like a cloud?

Up my throat.

You fuse without your hands, my teeth.

And drift.

In the 11th poem, Jamil reveals the interconnection and separation of lovers, their coalitions and differences, in a complex, admirable, dispersed by different impressions, bound by the need for the other with a strong bond, each with each other, and their feelings towards him, with satisfaction, but the longest sense of despair was that the relationship was ruined.

He was crying like a child.

And laugh...

As water pleases.

And he gets shot.

And I was.

Storm like him.

We fell fine.

Fight.

Fight.

The conclusion of the poems (the widow), a beautifully disrespectful one, the end of the human story, the beginning of the literary story, but the second she inherits herself with beautiful, closes her heart, declares herself (the widow of love), and the human and literary tale is all the same:

Is that love?

Dude.

We threatened.

Predictable.

He didn't stay from us.

Only a trail.

And as soon as we wave.

Affect.

In this religion, and in its previous years, with the artifacts of artisanal artifacts, it is not possible to do so in this place.

The experience of poetic schizophrenia extends for more than 40 years, and I knew it almost 30 years ago, followed his hair and evolution during these 30 years, and wrote several studies on his hair stream, the first of which was an introduction to his poetry group, which was labelled as a fourth of his cheerleading season.

This work, consisting of eight poetry groups, is almost a landmark in the process of renewal of the modern Arab poem, through its attraction to creative communication with the heritage, in exchange for another tendency to renovate the modern Arab poem in recent decades, and it is adopted by way of application or look at the flock with this heritage, and it may be in the interest of the Arab poems themselves to struggle.

The most important of these eighty-year-olds, a generation that enjoys a great deal of vigilance, independence and sorrow; especially because of the 70s who have lost their creativity as a result of the political and civilized circumstance, the unbridled attempt to extricate the morality of the national project and emigration of the world, and their experiences are only hybrid to bear.

This has necessitated the great harmony and consistency of the poem with its diverse audience, so they first had to provide a text close to the public without having to give up their own great beauty criteria, and, secondly, they had to open up the musical horizon with the home and activism, which some claimed to close, through the seizure of the rink.

These efforts have come to fruition, as we can now clearly hear the sound of this poem purely pure, both from these poets and from the next three generations, and this is not evidenced by the many contests and awards broadcast by screens and communicators with their programmes and series.

It was not only on the head of these poets, but it was before what we could call the juice of the poem, that is, presenting a contemporary poem in all its components. At the grass-roots level, we will adopt the idea of getting closer to the grasslands, using words and rhetoric on the public tongues, which are commonly exemplary.

This may leak from the delta to the builder. Our Shabish poet pays particular attention to artistic construction, intensification, logical interdependence and vertical growth of the poem, as illustrated by, for example, in its Diwan, entitled " Agreed " , in which our poet quoted the poem in the form of ancient and ancient heritage and narrative.

How does it go in and out of the hair?

It's the most spectacular question, which controls major poems, such as the House of Spirit, the Shahad, the Time, the Hair Worm, and the Lost of the Hair, and the Leap of the Worms, but it's a question that comes up in a hairy way, and dialogues with and around it, in a poetic way, and it's a blurry.

At the same level, its unique language on the part of its vast wings is shaped by the inspiration with its images and vocabulary, the lively transmission of what it was thought to be prone to ribism or penetration and, on the other hand, extends these wings to the language of daily reality in a stunning and consensual boldness, and the enlargement of the wings here confirms that those who are trying to solve their hordesclusions.

One of the fathers says the poem:

A language you know.

Every building has reached.

Referring to the relationship between the poet and his language, and to the same language as her lovers, after she realized that their souls had gone out with love and gloomy, she sought their secrets, on a journey that did not come to the discreet, nor to the delinquents, but when they received the wave that she knew, they realized that every one of them would be caught in the rain.

The poet envisions his ancient and modern culture to his hair, and demonstrates that the moment of creativity, if it reaches an appropriate temperature, in which all the elements employed by the poet can be embedded in his poems, confirming that there is no hair element of his nature, not necessarily a hairy element, but that there is a gift, a moment and a structure with which the poet is not permanent.

From every dream.

I was yelling at my right, another piece.

I'm riding her with him and praying...

Until tomorrow, his feet are Sun.

And his flaming hands covered the light of the Tower.

And this "many" conflict leaves its exact effects on the structure of the stereotypical poem, which, like the "Spiritual House" can be read from some corners as "simult" to a poet. The poet ' s poem can also be read as a poet ' s non-village, as is the term " how long " . In all cases, it is clear that the hidden correlation between the time stretch and the retrieval of consciousness, the detailed picture and the touch of the transplant feather and the unintentional dimensions of the situation is unreal.

In the inauguration of "Certificate", the poet blends into the concept of time, place, appearance and beyond.

We were on the suspended time purple in two galaxies.

Some hunt in the opposite horizon, some leisure ounces.

And some fill the cup of his energy.

And it's blown by possible stains.

This blender leads the recipient to an inspiration in the image of the one who took it and took it to waste it, but this "realistic" image is what turns into radiation approaching Sofit Tourism, to ease the sense of a poetic escape from the one-dimensional impossibility, the approach to the formulation of a cliffying and abnormality.

And when it comes to the sorrow of the sorrow, it doesn't seem like the sorrow of the sorrow, but when it comes to questioning how many, twenty, thirty or less.

The fact that the light poet controls on the secrets of the hairy rhythm appears to be interesting and admirable at a time when most of the rhythms are ignorable, and it appears to be difficult to achieve in the absence of these same disciplines, and we are gathered here by using a silo of different hairs, whether they are of the same activation as the whole and the closest.

But it is more admirable that this commitment is made without restricting the poet ' s movement to resort to many good techniques in building his poems, such as dialogue, combining time and consciousness, exploiting many technical means to build a multidimensional image, sometimes resorting to a detailed image of the individual, and then combining the opposite.

It's New York, the brightest girl in the art of temptation, the call for reckless progress, the modern world order of its high-rises and its streets, which reach the horizon, as Abdul Bari says, when it's still a theme for a hot hair dialogue from the early 20th century to the hour.

This article tries to meditate in New York in one of these experiments, in the light of the above-mentioned great poetry experiment. A song to cross the river twice For the Sudanese poet, Mohamed Abd al-Bari, the lengthy poem he wrote during his stay in New York, and because the city, as we have said, inspired a great group of poets, this poem must be approached as a dialogue and a clash with previous writings, especially the writing of an African poet, as in the experience of Lopold Singer, the Greater Senegalese poet, Yusuf, or the Arab poet, and Muslimsah, as well as the Greenhouse.

The poet Muhammad Abd al-Bari opened his long-distance poem by leaving and searching, as if the whole poem was a discovery of the other side of the poet, considering that the other one is the mirror. New York is the mirror here where the poet rediscovers himself and writes his own.

Yay, New York.

Leaving with the scholar may end with you!

It's the bay on your south.

Opens the blue gate for me.

I'm begging no faces.

From the new horizon to the new horizon.

The spirit is Christmas.

And I'm making the lightning work progress towards the city of the world.

And my Wright intervened in the leak of flags coming under the glory of God.

This town.

My taste in the hot mix of you.

To try the meaning unit.

And I've got the white fireworks orbit in you.

To spare the ashes!

This is where the poet enters as part of a nation's panorama, flags, colours and souls, into the city of the world, United Nations Headquarters, the globalization of trade and the huge economy, but it makes its entry under the flags of the glory of God, in the city of the world and the dark metal tower in his dnoyote and material, but it quickly meets his African predecessor, Sengur, saying: To New York,He's the nigger inside a city that he sees needs, needs to embrace his element and warm blood to complement the humanitarian model that he was unable to represent the Western civilization that produced. But Abd al-Bari is inextricably demanding, saying:

In my brave city.

Free me from my first legacy faces.

If it's new, drink masks.

*******

I want the Goa'uld to remove the sophie curtain from my body.

And in the mirror of my hope, which cannot be stared twice:

I want you to blow the nail out of my veins.

Thus, as many of those who wrote about New York, with their giant robotic face and extreme events, the text of Abdel Bari moves between the spelling and the advent, between the desire and the nun. The poet wants her to take away from it, the sofie to drown in her world of the world, to blow up, and to wear it with new faces, even if it is a new one. Infantry as my fear/invitational signs as my face, I see them in front of me lying / yellow brunch, like the odds of dying I see them through the place.

It's New York, the gallery gate, it's going to the cages from the body and the Earth.

• Harlem.

Like New York was an example of shocking globalization, and the attendant meanings of the collapse of cultural privacy, even before these features and terminology were reflected in our modern reality, and as Luka was blessed nine decades ago and his famous New York poet, whose title was replaced to speak of the experience of Abdul Bari, she also opened the window of Harlem ' s fingers in front of his eyes.

I saw Harlem with voices and ritual colors.
And the scandal. —
In the evening tea hour, at the delivery worker's house, I saw the night festival starting to break the day..
And I declare the night to be believed in the day..
It's a good hour. God sends home life on the streets.
******

Harlem, Harlem!!
A green corn rising from the top.
She wasted by Dan's bare feet,
Rads crooked like a silk, and stained like a high spear.
Nellover ballet,

And the wonderful imaginary masks,
Mango's fruit of love is falling out of low houses.

Singor saw in Harlem the potential of the idea of a life-stricken and people-like event, a world that half-blacked black niggers and washed away the history of servitude, and he decided that black night was more secure than day and that it was a holy moment in which God blessed life on the streets.

• Laurca.

Stop Lorka calling:

Oh, Harlem.

There's no misery equivalent to your two-time eyes!

However, in his clandestine courtesy, Lorca was singing repeatedly and ironically together, and in the hope that he was engaged with disability in a composite image of magic and psychological impact, he was singing to the Zaneji Renaissance Harlem, the emancipation and the opportunity of the white conscience to embrace and respect the blacks.

Harlem.

Impossible gold.

I'm like the Crescent praying.

And I hold only the heavens.

So you don't tend!

As usual, he brought her back to the Arab-Islam al-Hamalah al-Samat, from the very beginning he entered the city under Majdallah, who did not forget that he was representing another horizon.

I'm in town lying history.

He lies in the Atlantic, absence of Mediterranean water.

Traces lie in museums.

So he says: ...and lie in Jesus his blue eyes!

Jesus coming from the east, who turned in church photos into European with blue eyes, did not get far from Muhammad Abdul Bari in his trial, the city, who was formerly poets, but was eager to remember the roots, in his return and in his journey back from the city of the lowest city, as he called it to the city of Mobile in the Sudan, where: In the half of Grampa's tower business, I came to the human savage of the people who came in/the earth, the water felt at the crossroads my idea of transparency... To the Riyadh dialogue, where he was young and older, it was like he was dragging New York from making it to his eastern world to read on the poet's biography, his old research and his life in the face of the world.

The poem of modernity in the Sultanate of Oman is a remarkable position, with the richest bamboo poets in the Arab poetry arena inside and outside Amman, with their masculine poems, which dig a special place among other poetry types.

I believe that Amman ' s poem is more profound and self-sustaining, on the one hand, and on the other, it has not been widely observed in romance, but it has been all about self-inflictedness in its various forms, and thus it represents a special self-help situation, a sense of self-help and knowledge in the movement of Arab modernity, and the notion that this colour is infinite.

• Poetry:

The modern Omani poet relies on religious heritage, which is based on a series of cultural advances that have contributed to its formation, and we therefore note that the modern Omani poem has relied on the multiplication of religious heritage, so we note the tale in the use of the Koranian text, which is reflected in the inspiration of the Prophet Yousssus story of peace in the poet of Hassan Al-Muruchi.

    And what was his brother's name?،
How Dad spoils him,
I didn't have them,
To suspect his mother with the deer.،
And what they think of the house...

In the previous section, the poet was employed for the Prophet Youssouf story of peace, by relying on the patriarchal pattern of religious heritage, where he remembered the love stories of the Prophet Yakub to his son Yusuf, which had led to the use of the prophet and the fact that the Yusuf ' s brothers had taken refuge in the al-Muqab, and had not been seen as a question of the ruqah al-Shusif al-Shusif ' idah al-Sud of the recent lus.

You're welcome to the old poets in the modern Omani poem, because they have a clear effect on the structure of the Arab poet from the ocean to the bay. The poem has been opened with the uterus of poetry with great influence on the Arab poetry.

I don't want to lie to anyone.

Or believe something.

I'll sleep filling my eyelids.

About the wars and the streets.

I'll take the poisoned dagger off my body.

I'll describe my soul from the memories.

To fly out of time and cities,

Light.

As a sailing spirit, he crossed the storm.!

You're welcome to see the image of the prophet in a syphilis poem by saying: I'm going to sleep filling my eyelids of wars and deserts, replacing the hair with the war and replacing the people around, saying:

I'm filling my eyelids out of her.

And the creation is made easier, and it's consumed.

You are welcome to retrieve the rebellion, which strikes in every mushroom with an arrow, to draw language battles around the poem and its encroachment, while it comes against the sword of my own descendants. The intention is to seek self-determination from life, despite wars, deserts, deaths, direct killings, infringements of freedoms and small battles between people in our Arab society.

The poet says the sky of Issa calling the position of the exile:

My shadow.
Exile stars.
The remains of our prophets.
We stayed.!

The image of inner exile appears to be clear in the hair of the sky of Issa, where it is a self-importation within the home, where it lives in a world that is not commensurate with what it dreams, but all it occupies is to feel the spirit of life and joy, but it finds itself bound by destitution, pain and restraint.

It's a palm land.

As Christ is among the Jews.
I'm in a nation of God.

Strange as good in Thomod!

Undoubtedly, a sense of alienity, internal exile and marginalization contributes to its demise and, in fact, to its death, as if it dies in its own home, in the face of its own wounds, so exile is the spirit that tends to be self-inflicted in exile.

The poet says the Stone Hill, calling the sound of the blade:

Good morning, sunshine.

You noble wicked.

Friend of wolves and daughters of Owe.

Mr. Al-Khafar, in the empty quarter.

The Prophet of the Revolution!

In the past poem, the stone-threatening poet, the prince of the Sha ' alik in the Arab heritage, drawing from his voice the symbols of the revolution on society, rejection and rebellion on customs and traditions, and the central building of the martyrs who try to dig behind the destruction of other traditions and construction, the poetic vocal vocabulary may depend on the culverted cultural footing of the shrine. The stone-throwing poem bears a very close social vision from our Arab reality, where the weaker powerful eats and the right to the unemployed prevails, leading to the emergence of the poetry of the shoals on the modern poem as a symbol against the miserable social order of Arab culture.

• People ' s heritage:

The voices of the people ' s heritage are reflected in the modern Omani poem, as the popular heritage represents a remarkable presence in the structure of modern poem. We therefore note the poet ' s reliance on popular tale by talking about the Moon, the stars, the myths, the folk myths, etc., where it became part of the artisanal construction elements of the modern Arab poem, where the popular folklore is the first reference of the popular culture to which is enriched by leaders and researchers in the legendary.

The moon is as simple as the mourning of the prophets.
And my soul that God has.
On a spectrum of fire.
Will you give it back to me?
Seabirds.
I hear her calling me.
As a widow with a crush on her in a dump!

The poet, the sky of Issa, is based on the structure of the cultural pattern through the presence of the popular legend of the moon that lights the universe at night, in popular self-expression and destination, as well as the moon, as the main engine of the myth, the moon, the sadness of the prophets, the sadness of the sorrows and the symbols of the moon and the gloomy of the sea.

You're welcome.

The poet is the sky of Issa.

The poet, the stone gel.

The poet Hassan Al-Mamroshi

In addition to the growing tropical forests, those silent questions that are commonly known and unspoken, and whose thorns expand to intersect with the truth and hurt all those who give their hands to them, as if they pose risks of penetration and detection, and the risk of searching for anonymous answers, but only one look at the scene -- when the phenomena are connected with some awareness-raising -- is enough to try to be creative.

Perhaps one of the most critical questions to be avoided is that of a feminist poet, with my reservation to the term and the need to use it. While the monetary code is stirred by many feminine poetry names, many of which are often swollen by comity or sympathy, these readings are often linked to certain experiences of certain causes and to other omissions. What are these phenomena?

I'll be back in memory for years when I was still at the beginning of my experience, when I accidentally took care of the opening of an old cultural magazine, which was occupying a group of great writers and critics, whose images were carefully painted in the first pages, as the most important, the better, and they were.

I'm not sure that the old magazine was rich in women's participation, but that the image I've been looking for wasn't on the regular list.

Then let's go back to the beginnings - quickly - and to the historical data on feminine hair, a term we will agree for logistical reasons to use in the following, to refer to poetry texts written by women - in the civilization of a riverine country, the name of the oldest known poet on the ground - and I'm not less here a poet - to confirm precedence over the sexes - Let's go. The daughter of King Serjun Alkadi, born in 2286 B.C., died after a young woman in 35, but during her short life, she left great traces and wrote immortal texts, which took a religious external form, but imagining her meanings, images and references, which led to her being just a mask, concealing the cravings of the oasis.

At the Arab level, in the ancient times, many names emerged, most of which were vocal and left with scattered fathers, such as the qualification of the Chebaan, the courageous personality, which, for an unknown reason, left many of the scholars of political significance, and whose poetry was simply sculptured. We must point out here the wrong information about the death of her four sons. The Muslim women are not the dead of their children, but the Negro.

We must point out something important here, namely, the phenomenon of maturity in the Galle era, and its specific association with women, which, in my opinion, simply stems from the fact that women at that time, in war, conflict and the cruelty of life, were not reaching the age of poetry, unless they were killed, widowed, damaged or lost a life, thus spreading the philosophy of death, and became the philosophy of life.

But it wasn't enough to mention any poetry in the book of "Princests", like, which was written between 764 and 787 years ago, and it was one of the first bloggers to preserve the throne, which included 67 poets and nearly 130 vocals, with the total absence of a woman's hair.

Entering illiterate, fratricidal and even Andalusian ages, there have been shifts in social life and the moral environment, and women ' s hair has become highly correlated with the surroundings, who used it as freedom of expression and as a means of disinformation.

Finally, in modern times, things have not changed much, since women ' s poetry has been excluded from the front lines of a big hairline that can only recognize the importance of their experiences and earnestly, and in return we can remember only a few names, the most important of which are those of the males, who have tried to open up the power of the young woman.

I am not trying here to condemn the convict scene, which we all know what and what it is, to the extent that I am trying to point to the place of disease to find medicine, to find a solution that requires first recognition of the existence of a great and obvious problem, to grow safely through times, to disrupt the development of Arab poetry, to destroy the experiences, so we must analyse the phenomenon more rationally, beyond the reach of differences and without ignoring it.