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
Category: poetry
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.
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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?
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]
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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
TRAVELING
A friend once told me about this ritual in Argentina, Where people get in their cars and travel as far north as they can get. they stop by small villages on the way, and explore the pristine land, Some would end up in Venezuela, and in Colombia, the others. He told me this story as… Continue reading TRAVELING
The Blessings of Okra
I deem the end of the summer beautiful. When the okra plant is stripped from its leafs and fruits, and only the tall stalk is left: An elongation of the stem, reaching the sky coronated by the last seeds. As we drive past Shfaamer, where a family grows bamyeh**, I witness the stalks -so many, gathered… Continue reading The Blessings of Okra
Olive Picking Sonnet
High backwards swerve with a reed stick, he hits The olive branches, thick and heavy rain Of oil capsules falls heavy as it pits The black tarp with beads of Zaton that remain There until removed, and sifted bit by bit. Green and black olives filling the bags strain The backs of my mom,… Continue reading Olive Picking Sonnet
AICHA BINT YUSIF 