[سَفِينَةُ الفَضَاء (safinatou al-faďa’)]

[my mother used to say that there was a path i could follow beat the dirt, the violence of trying to blend in and make a place for yourself in this world i’d argue, with my youthful innocent mouth that there were wheatfields in which to skim your hand roaming gently planting new seeds inContinue reading “[سَفِينَةُ الفَضَاء (safinatou al-faďa’)]”

I’ll be whole again

From “The shade of old spectacles” I am a spirit I can be nothing more and nothing less So be it.   They’re my weapons against life But they will be my undoing If I don’t discard them soon They helped me when my mother was soaked in juice and her brain was all fluffyContinue reading “I’ll be whole again”

I remember

From “The shade of old spectacles” Blue The warm sea in which some people drown, the clear sky of the desert in which I got lost, the color of my backpack, of the weight of my story, the ink in my diary, the color of a 5-dollar bill you can use to buy things thatContinue reading “I remember”

They walk away

She cast a curse. The prince ran all the way across the city To a dimly lit park Where he fell down Whilst murmuring the lyrics of his final song Now here comes the encore. A flower that could only watch him break apart Stuck in the ground Through which Giant thorns rose Building wallsContinue reading “They walk away”

Both the same

Wonderful blue and withering yellow Beaten paths and similar patterns in the sky One will find comfort in the dark and sorrow One prefers the stars and a perfect lie Hate and wrath, a windshield against the storm Profound desire for a perfect illusion Together they make a shade of green They weep the sameContinue reading “Both the same”

Reunited

Time. It could have been a heartbeat ago When they last looked up at the same moon. But time can also be counted with tides or cries Daily sunsets or the blinks of their eyes. Sometimes can be never and someday could be soon. Time stopped when the prince came back from his journey BackContinue reading “Reunited”

The colour of wheatfields (Full story)

A matter of importance   Tiny little flower growing in the dry land The only green shade in the desert How did it find a way in this arid empty place To emerge from the sand?   Perhaps it’s here to be noticed by the little prince When he falls down. When he can’t standContinue reading “The colour of wheatfields (Full story)”

The forgotten colors

From “The colour of wheatfields” I. كُل وردة عندها ألْوَان جميلة حمر، زرق، صفر أولا فنيدي تا يولي الوقت فَاتح ملي كَيتلاقى قلبي مع رَوَائح جديدة .ملي مكينش صداح في مخي   البارح بكيت، اليوم كنشطح كل نهار يقْدَر يكون غامق أولا فاتح ولكن مع الشمس عند بشرتي و القمر في ذهني كنحس .و كنستحقContinue reading “The forgotten colors”