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Places
Qateef, Saudi Arabia
Contributors: Raed Al-Jishi
« The Qateef settlement dates back to approximately 3500 B.C. and is well known for its traditional markets (suqs), such as its Fish Market. »
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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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I am gambling in the Beirut night. I need two numbers melded together. I never asked any dice about its color, where it was made, or about its birthday in... media_text
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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 ... media_text
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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... media_text
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My body regularly erupts and it hurts when it does but it terrifies me with its painful time delay. My legs don’t tremble my back doesn’t groan, and I don’t distort my... media_text
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It is my right to love as she wants it, to get ripped by desire when her necklace scatters the tears of pearls. It is a riot, and it is my right to love and die ... media_text
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The frozen water in my eyes, which was scratched by a cat of time is changing the spring I desire, my vinegary dreams, and the songs that love me into a one-... media_text
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I stand near me Watching that man Come from the land far away. We have the same lisp In our tongue and in our memory. He went through me, And I didn’t notice He stole... media_text
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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... media_text
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If the core of rising Is the core of kneeling, where will I direct and to what will I surrender my eyes? From the collection Bleeding Gull: Look Feel Fly media_text
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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... media_text
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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... media_text
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