In a parallel line she walked along Ben Gurion Avenue (it was called Carmel St before the Nakba of Palestinians and the establishment of the state of Israel) and in parallel she thought about her duties: her grandmother is in the hospital and she should visit her. And in parallel society she lived, when she… Continue reading Walk down Lower Hadar
Author: aicha bint yusif
Writing is my key to free spaces. I write to let things out and to chronicle some, and you're more than welcome to read them.
The Sun Waits for Nadie
how great is the relief to know that the azahar* smells every year like the year before and in between the leaves stay green the sun comes and goes. how great is the relief to live a life where the doormat is tilted on the right and cannot seem to unfold and the light bulb… Continue reading The Sun Waits for Nadie
Sadness
beautiful sadness harmless sadness deep sadness the one that makes the night longer and the anguish interminable the sadness that proves existence and affirms being it’s the one that arrives late and resides for an extra minute or two how distant do the others seem from it and how near do i cling to it.… Continue reading Sadness
glimpses of mind’s contemplations
Encountering the sublime at the turn of the corner, I am left without words. As cliche as it sounds, but when i walked down the street to my house and glimpsed the early blossoms of the almond tree, they were pink and white in the center, I was taken to a halt. How can i… Continue reading glimpses of mind’s contemplations
the woman and the Carob tree
when you grow up and you realize that things are not as simple as they seem when do you stop? do you stop to admire the willows and the shadow of the thistles? when do you stop in the quest of self-inquiry? when you grow up and you admit to the uncertainty of being- even… Continue reading the woman and the Carob tree
on Hope
It was a cold Tuesday. It was that kind of Tuesday when things are in one state then you go to school and when you come back things are different: I wake up, drag myself out of bed, I can hear the clamor of plates and closing cupboards in the kitchen in addition to the… Continue reading on Hope
Nia’mat A’lawi and Rainer Maria Rilke -the love story you have not heard of, yet.
This article has been translated by myself from Shababek article by Mohammed Ahmed (the following link http://shbabbek.com/show/138943?fbclid=IwAR0MSy_FgsOoNz3_dURo6gLbX-N4NA2dMY6yuHvaYuu_HQlp2Jb9w9LQEZ0 ) Rainer Maria Rilke is considered one of the most well-known poets in the first half of 20th century Germany. Due to his significant contribution, scholars and critics have names him “the prince of Germany’s poets”, and… Continue reading Nia’mat A’lawi and Rainer Maria Rilke -the love story you have not heard of, yet.
all the words I’ve never said
I wish I can pay the bus ride via my phone I haven’t said my affirmations this morning my grandfather never said these words. I flew to Paris this evening and I hate the idea of a clone my grandfather never said these words. I love you too and God does… Continue reading all the words I’ve never said
[Fragments of return #3]
it is a fragment because it is a piece, whole in its own but connected to other pieces. It is a fragment and not a piece, because it comes uninterrupted and blazing- it asks for no permission and it doesn’t knock the door of consciousness, it merely comes in, takes off the jacket and… Continue reading [Fragments of return #3]
Monstrous Poem
If I could only build my own monster- put it in a frame of some sort measured, calculated in a detailed report so i can face it, maybe we’ll talk and have coffee. and maybe we’ll fight the last battle, but my monster is elusive metaphysical, slimy but corrosive. it cannot be touched, nor… Continue reading Monstrous Poem
AICHA BINT YUSIF 