On this night, 1400 years ago, the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) was taken from Makkah to Jerusalem in one night. Space shrank in an unprecedented way. Distance dissolved, the barriers between life and death grew blurry and soft. Prophets who had long been dead rise to pray, Adam and Abraham and Jesus and … Continue reading prose// the night of ancestral longing
poetry// confessions
few understand the burden of being introduced as your Father’s Daughter. All of a sudden your words are not your own but the both of yours the way you hold your head the way you dress the way you form syllables and sit down to eat and greet the old woman at the door are … Continue reading poetry// confessions
prose// on mediocrity and ordinariness and letting myself down
Often, when I force myself, while biting my teeth and clenching my joints, to peer inside me, I all I can see is a deep, dark tunnel stacked neck high in old failures, missed opportunities, a recorded snapshots of moments when I just couldn't jump high enough, or didn't, or forgot to try at all … Continue reading prose// on mediocrity and ordinariness and letting myself down
poetry// the light
after Caroline Rothstein & in honor of the victims of the March 2019 terror attacks in Christchurch, New Zealand The Thing about life is that it is tiny small and petite can be folded up neatly and tucked six feet under The Thing about life is death is quietude amidst noise is departure from world to … Continue reading poetry// the light
poetry// fragility
i break my self in half like a ripe loaf of bread / the crack of my spine like the peppery taste of crumbs in the air as shattered crust exposes soft yeasty insides. / i split in two like a lentil in a black pot / on an old woman’s stove / like a … Continue reading poetry// fragility
poetry// thickener
I am not my father He is immigrant & I have never been one. He is tall & I am me and so I am not my father. I am loud & his voice is strong enough to be soft and not collapse. He is a healer & I write poetry He is orphaned & … Continue reading poetry// thickener
prose// the length of love
I think about the ways I want to gather up the sounds of my family, pile on as much as my hands and hard drives can carry when we expend ourselves to the very maximum. What lengths for lineage I would leap in a heartbeat! Memorize the laughter, the inflections, the accents, the words they speak in a dialect that is crisp and yet silky in my ear. There are few things as beautiful to my ears as Sudanese Arabic, shuffling its way across the tongues of women who smell like heaven. Everything flows effortlessly from my father's people and the place they proudly represent: the drape of the toub, the bright and blooming karkade that tinkers in glasses, the cold water of the Nile, the long tresses of a laughing girl who flounce her way past me in the masjid foyer.
poetry// acrobatics
When I am this far off the ledge, barely dangling, you cannot love me home Wait for me at the bottom instead. Upturn your arms, Become The Home I think about the times here I grimace at myself and my mouth. I needn't split my hands to mold strange people into good friends, I have … Continue reading poetry// acrobatics
poetry// illness
God is good to me. I wait & I wait & I wait And each morning I rise I stumbled out of bed And stay frozen there Sometimes. God is good to me. I bite my tongue and let the blood collect in my mouth I tear up my clothes and scatter them around my … Continue reading poetry// illness
poetry// holy water
Water is my healing It calls my name in all of its pronunciations My toes crawl back to the rivers & the lakes & the places I know where the earth’s veins tumble open And oxidize at human touch. Water is my song The waves / the sounds of river slapping up against concrete harbor … Continue reading poetry// holy water
