Under the threshold (writing fragments) – Page 7

Reason is overrated

I came to age with a saying; Love is crazy. Qais was not called Majnon for nothing after all there’s no reason in love. Nothing is logical. You will stay up all night speaking to your loved one, or risk your grades and family status. Everything seems in urgency.

Rant of the day

It was when I went to the United States that I got to meet people from neighboring Arab countries ( which just proves the point that I’m about to rant about), and it was them that said how much they love Palestine, how much they resisted the Israeli Occupation and how much they told people… Continue reading Rant of the day

The night of a red moon

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.

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

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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?

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