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Toufic Sarieddine, 'Letter' and 'The Tour'

A Letter

                                                                                                               To be acknowledged on December 22nd, 2012.

 Dear Armageddon:

Ghiwa Ali Dandish: 'The Cockroach'

The Cockroach

Looking for something that is brown 
My long antennas always move
Suddenly, the sun disappears
Where to hide?
A giant foot falls from the sky

Ziad Dallal: 'An Expression of the City'

An Expression of the City

In the 1970s the power of words exhibited itself like a Shakespearean fool. But like every performance which dares to open up a space for change, its reception was violent.

So God's scratched record went round and round and round and round again and mistakenly exclaimed: In the beginning was the word, and the word was with the Rhizome and the word was Multiplicity.

Nasri Atallah: 'The Room'


The Room


The alarm clock went off and I ignored it for as long as I could, its piercing shriek revelling in the violation of my eardrums. It was too far away for me to hit the snooze button. I did that on purpose returning from a drunken night, placing the clock just out of reach. The relentless buzzing would eventually levitate me out of bed and over to the annoying little appliance, where I would smack it into pained silence. 

Aisha Marie Ahmad Aleiou: 'Ishtar'



In human form the sea has walked and presented her gifts in the sultriness of summer when the air is at its dampest your goddess strolled amongst you. Invisible since Phoenician eyes, masked beneath the blue, Ishtar has beautified your lands, fertilized your women, defended you in times of war and deprived your artists of love so as to feel the muse of pain upon their scrolls.

Joanna Abillama: 'The Serpent Queen'

Mounawar Abbadouchi: 'The City of Mirrors' and 'The Old Mousseline'

Salmi B. Simitian: 'Dreams of Color' and 'Ghadi's House'

Dreams of Color

Once a house by the sea
Its rooftop like the mountains in the distance
Sea breeze passed through its windows
Purple drapes danced
Purple drapes waiting for the sails
The sun sets
Now multicolored drapes in the windows
Still as the night
Bright colors but no sails
Now a mall by the sea

Roseanne Khalaf: Preface to "Beirut: Writing the City"

Some years ago the International Writing Program at the University of Iowa invited me to participate in a conference held in Morocco. The assignment was to write about my own city, Beirut, and later about the old cities of Fez and Casablanca.  It proved a challenging and thrilling experience--one that has forever altered the way I view workshops and writing.

About This Gallery

The IWP Publishing Gallery hosts collections of new work curated by our colleagues worldwide.


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MFA in Literary Translation  (University of Iowa)

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