Dialogue with my imaginary journalist – K.B

Just so you know, I’m not fancying myself as a renowned poet, this is the product of my imagination, and maybe it’s a way to convey my motivation to you.

Plus, I’m finally getting published by a publisher in Paris. All this work paid off in the end. It was never my aim though 😉

This dialogue is a fantasy and I had a lot of fun writing it down.


Dialogue with my imaginary journalist.



-Just tell me,
What is it you’re
Fighting for?

I fight anything
That kills freedom.

You know,
When I first started
My relatives
Were shocked
By such a benevolent

You get it right?
Our mission
On earth
Is to survive,
Make money
And go to fancy

I had whole other
I wanted
To touch
Gently but firmly
The people’s heart.
The purpose wasn’t
To draw attention,
Rather, provide
Any kind of people
A daily piece of poetry.
As for Islam,
I wrote a novel
About it.
Any resemblance
With religious
Figures is coincidental.
I remain a poet and
Am fond of poetry,
Because it gives
Way to mystery
While using
Material words
And I think we
Lack mystery
And love,
Everything is so
Rational and lifeless.

-But why do you stay
In the shadow?

Would you like to be
Naked in the light?
It’s not cumfortable
People hate on each other,
And don’t even love themselves.
I’m grim about this thing
We call human nature,
It has become sad
And sour from the
Of my relatively happy
Way of life.
I’m not blind, nor am I deaf
Or mute. I can see,
But most of the time
I choose not to,
I would otherwise
Consume myself
With sadness.
I have a firewall.

-Thank you for your




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