this is not a return in spatial or temporal terms. It is a return in existential terms. The return to who I am. Traveling in life is so easy, and life is easy to take us and to drive us through its ups and downs, but it’s important to maintain a space of return at… Continue reading [fragments of return #4]
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.
Balconies in Tarragona
overflowing flowers gush from the veranda Near carrer de Nazaret. A small balcony, rectangular and slim, Its width is that of one azulejo and its length is that of five steps back and forth, The metallic bars coil around each other top bottom, And the rest is flowers. White and lilac, they flood the space… Continue reading Balconies in Tarragona
The night after they unearthed a mass grave In Tantura
I couldn’t sleep. I’m visited by ghosts demanding justice. Unearthed too little Too late, Unrecognized by their own doers. How can I sleep when I have guests? Dates, nuts and tea What my grandmother taught me about hospitality when I lived in the village. But that is not enough: Makeshift beds and mattresses out of… Continue reading The night after they unearthed a mass grave In Tantura
When the world asks me to write.
I can’t write I can’t write. I’m in crisis and I’m feeling tight I can’t write. How can I be when I can’t write? I look left and right, I tell my mother and cousins Hey I can’t write, I can’t write. They look amazed- so what? We too can’t write, And it’s alright. But… Continue reading When the world asks me to write.
Untitled
And if I tell you that a war will rage the alleys of our city, Would you shut the window and leave this place? Or will you listen to the breeze ruffling the beige curtains?
A painting speaks
“I love my doctor. Although he is always the person to deliver me bad news: “Robert, I’m sorry to inform you that you suffer from HIV. Robert, this sickness has no cure.” Always bad news. And yet I love him because he takes care of me. Here I am in his clinic, after a long… Continue reading A painting speaks
Perfecting the Art of Loss
So many people praise and hail triumph But a few do so with loss and losing. A neglected art that I recently heard of When I was busy becoming and choosing Who will I be and what will I do with my life: I drag all past experiences and hardly moving I watch myself from… Continue reading Perfecting the Art of Loss
Observations of the village that became a city in one night [revised]
The splintered sidewalk follows my footsteps As I climb the narrow, steep hill to my house. The bus stop is decorated with trash And its screen that shows the time remaining for the arrival of the busses is broken. Grey 4-5 floor buildings are everywhere; Each one houses a whole family and is full to… Continue reading Observations of the village that became a city in one night [revised]
Untitled
We have green valleys white clouds, black skies and red blood smudging the streets. We already have high mountains small lakes and wide fields, We already feel anger and fear, We are familiar with hopes and tears, but what we have never experienced is yellow butterflies- the magic and real. We already have history, food… Continue reading Untitled
Unintented, unprofessional Ethnographic Study in Haifa city
It is not professional because I am not an anthropologist- I only took two anthropology coursees during my English Literature degree, and it’s unintended because I was not planning for it- I was staying in Haifa after a long period of being away, and I ran into many people, with whom the conversation just naturally… Continue reading Unintented, unprofessional Ethnographic Study in Haifa city
AICHA BINT YUSIF 