By Waleed bin Ziad
Date: 4 July 1998

An Ode to Jess

(This was written by my best friend on the plane ride that took him out of my life..three hours 
after out last goodbye.  I'm seeing him in August when he comes to the States for college. 
 Wish me luck.)
@--}--Jessica



Jess, what a mess!
But I love every bit of it;
From the tangled up golden brown hair,
  to the inconsistant multicolored eyeball, 
  to the lovely Korean War momento jeans.
Each mark, each stain, tells some story.
So innocent, so insignificant, that you become a turning point in my history.
Your voice beckons to me, as I painfully try to reproduce it,
  straining my vocal chords and loving it.
A sigh? A relief? That I will never see that Mess again?
But the Mess has become a part of me 
  and mingled with all the other strains which my life has to offer me.
You are the shapes and the figures clouds trace in the sky,
A silent movie with subtitles in some obscure eastern european tongue,
  and for some strange reason, I can undrestand ever word of it.
i have felt closer to you that I have felt to myself.
A blue rose that sheds its petals every fall, 
  whose thorns become skyscrapers, piercing the balance of the heavens.
As I glare from behind a glass curtain,
  my cries turn to tears and my tears to raindrops,
  and as the light from your being passes through the curtain,
  a rainbow forms.
I should have whispered a long time ago, 
  saved more of my memories on the harddrive of your mind.
I will carve your name in my eyes, careful not to blind myself in the process.
Have you ever seen a scoreboard display a negative number?
Or a stadium with seats facing outwards?
My little man, my very own bro, I think you ought to know
I should put a patch over one eye and pretend the other is blind,
Stuff my mouth with the precipitate of a thunderstorm.
But you don't know--man--U DON'T KNOW!!!
I hope I don't recieve a cry in response,
Jess cries only through my fear, my anxiety, wildness, passion gone astray.
Although I sprain my shoulders trying to lift my imaginary burden,

I never asked you what broke your heart. . .

Well, "Here I am, my anger and me, temper makes it hard to see, 
         this situation I'm in again, everything must come  to and end--NOW!!!"