Tag: Poetry

I am stuck between four walls. A room with white walls and nothing else. It resembles what Susan Abul Hawa described in her book ‘A Loveless World‘ and called The Cube, except there’s no shower, there’s no bed, and there are no visitors.  I can see myself in a Western movie, thrown in solitary confinement,…

لا قصيدة تستطيع انتزاعي من بين أحضانك أن تبعد يدي عنك أن تنتزعني من عالمك لأجعلها لأكتبها …لألدها كيف تنافسك قصيدة؟ كيف تنتزع منك الدفء لترتديه؟ كلّ مرة أردّد:  …لا قصيدة تستطيع انتزاعي من بين أحضانك كلّ مرة أسلخ نفسي عنك بتهمة قصيدة كلّ مرة أعدُني أنها المرّة الأخيرة، القصيدة الأخيرة لكنك أنت تجذب القصائد،…

I. 1 This is a place where now is an eternity. 2 This is a place where one waits because, certainly,3 A place where everything is about to happen yet nothing really happens.4 Where one waits to wait, because one knows that everything that is about to happen will never really happen.5 This is a…

He said it takes two to tango,But left her spinning in a storm of her own steps. She began with the opening walk—Slow, deliberate.Her body an invitation,Her eyes locked on his,Waiting for him to claim the lead. But he hesitated at the threshold,Fear pooling in his chest like poison,While she extended her leg—A bridge he…

She lit every roomwith oil and bone,hung her ribs like chandeliers,invited him to kneelin the cathedralbuilt from her wounds. Her voice echoed,like wind through crypts,soft, but sharpened by survival.She was still.Not dormant—divine.A storm cloaked in prayer. But he—he took the easy way out.Slipped through a crack in the wallbefore the house could speak,before the pipes…

I have a fever that is you. Feel my lips, look at their blue, Touch my skin, how it burns too, Hear my heart, how it pumps for you. I have a fever; I have fallen ill. You are the disease, baby, you are the pill. A virus creeping under my skin, Your love is…

It hurts—my heart, a red bruise swelling beneath my skin,tight like a scream trapped in the throat of a dream.It coils in the ribcage,a beast pacing, pacing,snarling at the hollow where your name once curled,like smoke after rain. It hurts—my soul,like a flame-colored leaf,falling in the middle of summer,out of season,out of place,spun by winds…

My lighthouse shone bright, It guided my path. It was a focal point, Never knew wrath. Resilient it stayed, As the waves ran high, But one wave dared— With my lighthouse to try, And demolish everything, In the blink of an eye. I lost my lighthouse, The guide and the path, The safety it brought,…

A lonely soldier, Nowhere to belong, Serving at sea, Awaiting none. Marching through the waves, Alone at night, No trees, no soil, No creature of any kind. No one can see you, Sweating blood, Counting the distant lights, Forming lines as tears come. You remember your grandma, With her silver hair, She told you all…