Would you believe me if I say It’s difficult to write a poem this morning. I woke up with an intention, with a song delayed. The days are slow in the village. time dilates proportionally … Continue reading the obligation
Category: poetry
Everyday I discover something new
Like that the word silhouette comes from the name of a French author called Étienne de Silhouette. Or I find out that I can fast for three days, surviving on one poem a day. I discover that I can imitate the sound of birds, if I try. And when I bend my wrist in a… Continue reading Everyday I discover something new
If one were to exist
A weeping oak tree -if such weeping oak tree were to exist- I would be. It is day eleven of quarantine: so says my long to-do lists- almost overwhelmed with tasks that attempt to maintain normalcy in these times. and yet I stay in place right there, in the living room, on the yellow… Continue reading If one were to exist
Doors
eb ew alef: ba ew eb: bab bab is door. Do you know that the greek god Janus is the god of beginnings and endings. A door joins two sides, which makes the door both a beginning and an end. Janus is the god of doors. Do you also know that… Continue reading Doors
WALL (revised)
About two years ago I wrote a poem called “wall“. This is an attempt to revise it. One ball, two balls three balls up on the wall. wall so big, so thick, it has a roof and a top. Counting has always been a hobby of mine Before I even memorized the Fatiha verse,… Continue reading WALL (revised)
Untitled
I arrived home late this evening I poured a glass of white wine that I didn’t drink because I was tired
That weird running incident
Running has always been a source of pleasure Racing the wind, releasing the mind Feeling the strong muscles move under my control Until that day when it all stopped: I was running at the beach, where a military base lies nearby And to practice they run in groups With guns slouching at their sides … Continue reading That weird running incident
A short response
” Where should the birds fly after the last sky?” – Mahmoud Darwish They fly to their nests and hatch poems of spring.
distance
The pomegranate trees are heavy. they call for me to reach out for their fruits- relieve them from sweetness, their only truth. The pomegranate trees wait for me prostrating to the South in pleasure only the wind steals my voice and endeavour. The pomegranate trees are lonely in Palestine, and so am I… Continue reading distance
illustrated poem of Haifa
Here is a poetic topography of Haifa, a city I have been living in for the past 4 years.
AICHA BINT YUSIF 