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. »

There is a holy spot

bher eyes

where angels burn their feathers

And lose their faith.

Do not blame me.

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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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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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In the theater of time

crucified on my language,

watching the birds

falling onto my song,

stealing pieces of bread

from my melody,

what does its meaning

Prepare for me...

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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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Since the night of shooting stars, the night of travail,

the call to prayer calms me. Some people chant,

“Hale Loya.”

It was the last supper and the birth

of a certain death.

My...

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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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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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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...

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I am a Tuareg child.

My blue turban drowns me

in the waves of sadness,

then expels me

like seeds of ivory.

O! great Tin Hinan,

your brave knight

lost his way among...

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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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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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