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Saturday, 18 December 2010

مانيفيل

(

مانيفيل: is "manivelle" meaning "starting handle" in French but as said by the Lebanese.)

 clouds...

 

clouds...

 kill

 clouds



Wednesday, 15 December 2010

أنا مثل الأُمّة

I Am As the Motherland



I vomit my kidney;
I won't thirst
The second I forget

Do you know that I am
So tender?
My enemies I adopt

Tuesday, 12 October 2010

I want to sleep inside a mattress on mud and imagine its surface moving, untouched.

Thursday, 7 October 2010

صدى يعيش في قنبلتي المخفيّة


كلّك

Sunday, 3 October 2010

Parlour under My Bed

A countenance and continents

The jargon of  trees

I thought I couldn't speak any language

Thursday, 30 September 2010

الليلي بدّي كنيفي عل بحر وما ائدر نام أبل الضهر وئتا حكون عمبشرب كبايية الينسون يلّي عريحتا حؤوعا

Wednesday, 29 September 2010

Today, I will leave my scarf in the middle of the road and continue walking.
I fear that one day I'll have to tell my children that blue is the color of wood.

Tuesday, 28 September 2010

Today, I want to hide in a stranger's washing machine.

Saturday, 25 September 2010

An orangery between my two hands
And I don't feel stuck
This morning it rained
And my hips wanted to run away from me

Saturday, 18 September 2010

I wonder when I would use a spoon to stir myself, serve myself and take me up
I wonder if I have already done so
I wonder if I have been always doing so

I wonder when our heartbeats would sound like construction vehicles that do not construct but throw not far away

Thursday, 16 September 2010

-a quick empty draft 1

When will I stop
going back
to that state of
a little girl
when her parents are teaching her what to answer
when people ask her what's her name.
At kindergarten, teachers were convinced that I was a foreigner even if back then, I had had never traveled but had played the airplane-wind-curtain-spring-game alone, and not once I felt that my airplane was empty.In spring, my parents would half-open the balconies and keep the curtains loose, and around 1 pm,that mimetic spring wind would blow leaving the curtains to form a half hollow circle that I would smile upon seeing and run and sit, inside of it.I would sway, so unforcefully sway and scream to my passengers of the form of the clouds ahead of me.I was a very calm girl.Later, when my younger brother grew up a little, I started calling him to join me so we travel together.He giggled so much ;he seemed to enjoy it, but soon I was back to playing this game alone, with my passengers and clouds that would for long moments disappear.And our travel was slow, in a way that I would call now "sensual".

I hope I am not growing up to retaliate this past.I hope I am not growing up.

And in a trope, I feel I am a cloud waiting for rain, so the sea may be filled, and I may drink it to vapor, so I, myself, would rain.

Wednesday, 15 September 2010


طفلة تركت في البحار لكي تتعلّم السباحة
ونصف امرأة عرجاء
ايقظها بعد أن تحتضر في خلاياك
واصرخ في فمها
فكثيرا ما تنسى الطعام

with carpets
I have told you
that you
cannot cover
the horizon with carpets
...I have told you
that you cannot
cover the horizon
with carpets
I have told you
that you cannot
cover the horizon
with carpets
I have told you that you
cannot cover
the horizon with carpets
I have told you
that you can
not
cover
the horizon
with carpets
I have told
you
that you
cannot


هاتي


Let us blame
Let us blame..the sun

المدينة لا تراني

the city doesn't see me