Baby…
I mean -- Dear…
I mean, Hello!
Yes, hello – this is more appropriate.
I hope you won’t be very sorry—given all that you’ve inflicted upon me—that I abandoned you.
It wasn’t true that I...
A virtual route of creative and cultural exchange
Places
Baghdad, Iraq
« There you are returning to her once more. You never knew how many times you left and how many times you said you would never go back to her. » —Sadek Mohammah, Archaeology of Scorched Cities
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Pollution The prostitute, at the front of the street The prostitute, at the front of the street, approaches media_text
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1 He is alone in the hall, Through the window one can see scattered corpses, media_text
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Between the predisposition to the Absolute, and the red walls of the labyrinth, the paths that lead to the meaning vary. And, whether the letter is a sword, a candlestick, or a wall-- the truth is farther... media_text
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Story of (that) time Story of that time; like tyrants who gargle in the depth ; in the (wood’s quiet) we were, night was in us; maybe we were stars, maybe we carried our clothes to where the river enters.... media_text
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Images …images media_text
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To those days--bombing monuments… 1 media_text
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[Interview performed by Farideh Hassanzadeh] "The Iraqi roses (poems) flourish today every where in the world." "Being very abstract, brief and digested poetry could not depict these horrible deeds."... media_text
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She works meticulously, inserting the tip of the needle into a small gap of wool, looping the yarn around the second needle. Her eyes never blink, they are intently focused as she purses her lips and observes the... media_text
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