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
...
Raed Anis Al-JISHI (poet, translator; Saudi Arabia) has published one novel, seven volumes of poems in Arabic and one, Bleeding Gull: Look, Feel, Fly, in English. Alongside a career as a writer, he teaches high school chemistry in his native city of Qateef. He is a feminist and human rights activist, and works on issues involving children and literacy.
Find Raed's Arabic social media (YouTube, Twitter, Facebook) at rabdaljishi. Below are links to his English accounts.
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 ... media_text
|
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... media_text
|
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 ... media_text
|
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
|
A flower carried carefully by the wind, the verses of the petals are the hymns of the morning. Time dreams about the flowing dew of intonation Like perfume touching her... media_text
|
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... media_text
|
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, ... media_text
|
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
|
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
|
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
|
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
|
My kid is playing nearby and he stuns me, how he chooses my right breast and sucks my age till it swells. I try to surprise him with my left but he squeezes the nipple... media_text
|