My mind is a blank. The loss for words is not uncommon, but this time it’s different; caused by a red moon. my words seem at lost till 2033, when i shall find myself and look back in retrospect over my inability to function with a smile but not a word.
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.
Power
Today I was reading about Marie Curie: she must have known she suffered from radiation sickness her body bombarded for years by the element she had purified It seems she denied to the end the source of the cataracts on her eyes the cracked and suppurating skin of her finger-ends till she could no longer… Continue reading Power
Closer than ever- Lebanon’s ne
I live 3 hours drive south of Beirut, yet for the longest time it has been so far away. I remember when I was about 6 years old I would sit in the driver’s seat of my grandpa’s tractor, and I would ask my cousins who would hang to the side handles where would they… Continue reading Closer than ever- Lebanon’s ne
Walls
I remember when I was very young – as young as I would ask for stickers to collect, and had not yet memorized the Fat-ha verse, I would be sitting in the back seat, and after a tedious fight I would get the seat next to the window. The seat next to the window is… Continue reading Walls
The Nakba: Revised
One year ago, I wrote a short narration/poem of how I feel about Nakba, about the definition of Nakba [http://beyondcompromise.com/2014/05/14/to-define-nakba/]. The Nakba is my need to re-write this poem. Nakba is my failure to do so. 15th of May, 2015
Untitled
Who, may I ask?
Every time you cross my mind I pick a leaf off the heap on the floor next to the almond tree on my way to school. It’s sudden and intimate, it’s can’t be controlled. The dew on summer mornings, the cringes when hearing the owls hoot. These things are inevitable where I used to live.… Continue reading Who, may I ask?
Thirteen ways to look at a cloud i
An aimless wanderer with no compass or a flag to wave The eyes of God one sin on your left one bliss on your right white-washed page futile and useless Dark as the night heavy with life Sun-worshiper bowing in humility Blocks of the Aristotelian purgatory in a vicious earth we’re doomes Unreachable gold in… Continue reading Thirteen ways to look at a cloud i
20-hours flight away
I hear your voice cracking on the phone, and i see your tears across the seas dropping like the water of the seas. I want to cry with you so I can show you the same, but I don’t We had the chance to be, yet we became only with 20-hours flight away. with… Continue reading 20-hours flight away
في جادة هوليوود
في لوس انجلوس مدينة الملائكة امراة بمنتصف العمر تتكا الجدار في جادة هوليوود فوق النجوم تحتضن امتعتها لاتقاء البرد او لطرد النشالين [انا ارجح الاحتمال الاخير] تحمل حياتها على كتفيها طفلان يحومان حولها مثل النسور “الرجاء المساعدة,مشردون” يقرا لوح الورق المقوى للمشروبات الغازية- . أما أنا, فانا مررت مرور العابر لكن قلبي بقي هناك, في… Continue reading في جادة هوليوود
AICHA BINT YUSIF 