About four years ago, I read a Wallace Stevens poem called “Thirteen ways to look at a blackbird”. For a reason, I still go back to that poem. Today, the skies pregnant with heavy clouds, I wrote this poem in amelioration of Stevens’ poem. I hope you like it. I dark clouds are faster than… Continue reading Thirteen ways to look at a cloud
Category: poetry
[burning clouds]
Contours of clouds burning like ambers Did they choose to block the sun?
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
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
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
Ode to my home
my house is built on two pillars painted in grey and dented on the sides for frames to capture the good lost eaves the other two are hidden behind walls of affection and blood. My house has many windows, open to the sun wide and breezy at night. Flanked by trees, secure it tight abundant… Continue reading Ode to my home
Ode to Fairuz
The morning star and the evening moon You, whose voice soothes the heart and born anew Wise words light the way and accompany the uncertain steps. We rarely see you, but to hear you is all we need. You, Fairuz, We thank you.
AICHA BINT YUSIF 