Places

Qateef, Saudi Arabia

Contributors: Raed Al-Jishi
Qateef, Saudi Arabia

« The Qateef settlement dates back to approximately 3500 B.C. and is well known for its traditional markets (suqs), such as its Fish Market. »

And I see peasants

singing along the milky road

alongside a bull

that didn’t know

what a plow looks like.

And beggars,

desert sharpeners

like a flock of cheating...

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The language of love

is spontaneous,like me,

like a painting of a child.

I used to draw my house

on the left side of the paper.

My house was so small,

neither doors nor...

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Unlike in Shakespeare’s verse,

I felt the summer day.

The sun burned

my nocturnal wings

and the wind tossed me away.

My steps on the milky shore,

my feathers in the sky

...
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Surrounded by the walls of memory

with no lover

and nothing to remember

I mock

my triangular cuffs

and the illusion

of hands in a circle.

An iron cage of emotions...

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They vanished

like our palm trees.

Ancient open windows

and old dreams.

The city forgot their names

while they held its memory

in their soul

like a candle

...

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We have a modest tradition

of hospitality.

Our Arabian coffee

doesn’t need sugar

or cardamom

to be tasty or delightful

just like the smile

we serve

to those...

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An autistic girl

searching for the spring

between the black clouds—

her braids are made

from a shining rose branch.

Her dreams are made

from a shining rose.

But who...

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When the distance to stillness

becomes a ticket for the passenger

and there is no other trip,

the port of transfiguration

is caught in

desertification.

Sound waves

...

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I roll up.

I smoke the pulse of the minute.

I inject my hand

with heroin of love.

No one can shut me up.

My flying poems

hide themselves

in the pack of hearts,

...

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I cannot recognize myself

If I don’t wear me.

Faces are deceiving

without their masks,

like that bleeding

white gulf.

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I have seen gulls, in holy visions, hover and invent the sound of horses. I have seen them give alms to rats hungry for crumbs of bread, crucified on the altar. I have seen them flap their wings and swallow common...
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Our cotton

didn’t take the sun’s side

anymore.

The wrung-out sweat

was not injected inside us

as if a shiver of a poem’s smoke.

We are the shaved-off sugar top

And the...

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