Contours of clouds burning like ambers Did they choose to block the sun?
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.
W.A.L.L
One. Two. Three. I’ve aqcuired the habit of counting trees since I was little; As little as I didn’t know the Fatiha verse. I enjoyed counting of houses when against the window pane Counting the lines of crossing pavements Counting huge slabs of concrete. A wall. It is more than a wall. It’s a demon.… Continue reading W.A.L.L
Measure the silences
When drops of rain pelted outside my window pane I heard the silence between each tear and it sister. When the car skidded past my porch I heard the muteness of the streetlight. When father called to help fix the heater in the winter I heard his strained breaths struggling out of his bronchi. And… Continue reading Measure the silences
Jasmine and olive oil soap
She got her nails done today sweet, peach-colored and smelled of chemicals, her nails glittered. She dared not wash the dishes and as she stood confused in front of the sink: she hated dirty dishes in the sink because it reminded her of her mother who always did that. That which her father hated and… Continue reading Jasmine and olive oil soap
The Waste Land
I remember reading this poem when I was in my first year of English degree, and I was under its spell for quite a while. The Wasteland is a masterpiece for its intricate, elaborate and quite sophisticated language that attempts to ask difficult questions about existence, life, love, and war. It also attempts to offer… Continue reading The Waste Land
Sonnet of doubt and goals.
The bed is not organized, nor is my heart folds in the blanket hide what is here: the longing, sorrow, and loss of a start for a well established, sincere order. The night and the wind enjoy their merry dance while i with myself seek dance to claim the ups and downs and the goals… Continue reading Sonnet of doubt and goals.
A walk with Kierkegaard
On a crispy February morning, the Carmel’s trees glittered and the dew glistened, the sun lurked diffidently and the air was fresh and could be touched. On this morning, I met Kierkegaard for our walk I suggested we sit and talk about the clouds, the distant steam and the stream of thoughts that followed but… Continue reading A walk with Kierkegaard
Right to Movement – Haifa
The breath is relieving as much as it is hurting. The 100m sprint raised my heart rate up; I could feel my heart alive and beating. It is in these moments of intensity, that one feels and grasps what is to be alive. Hearing the music from behind me, mingled with encouragement words yalla yalla… Continue reading Right to Movement – Haifa
A day trip with Ulysses
we waited for the bus together Ulysses and I talked about the change of weather “the wind is not expedient to sail” he said and pondered the fall. I said “but the bus does not need any wind, prompted by gas, it climbs faster than the wind ups and downs, it is no problem the… Continue reading A day trip with Ulysses
the Death of an Earring
The Earring dangled from the ear lobe gracefully. Yellow and green, it glitters against the light on Thursday evenings while watching the sunset. It has witnessed many horrendous thing, most of which is the penetration of the flesh in the ear, to establish sovereignty. Power can be violent, or power is always violent. The dominion… Continue reading the Death of an Earring
AICHA BINT YUSIF 