What stubborn children we are
refusing to sleep. The eyes age
with the pallid moon and grow white
as snow. If, when I can bend sky and wind,
I’d sleep, then I can pluck off stars what
moors tonight in my dream.
"A fish is caught by its mouth"
What good is skin or clothing
to make the flesh discreet
when the mouth is speaking
and the hand thus write -
how words betray me most
to expose my heart’s yearning.
High on Hayatii (•ˆ⌣ˆ•)
For us, eating and being eaten belong to the terrible secret of love. We love only the person we can eat. The person we hate we ‘can’t swallow.’ That one makes us vomit. Even our friends are inedible. If we were asked to dig into our friend’s flesh we would be disgusted. The person we love we dream only of eating. That is, we slide down that razor’s edge of ambivalence. The story of torment itself is a very beautiful one. Because loving is wanting and being able to eat up and yet to stop at the boundary. And there, at the tiniest beat between springing and stopping, in rushes fear. The spring is already in mid-air. The heart stops. The heart takes off again. Everything in love is oriented towards this absorption. At the same time real love is a don’t-touch, yet still an almost-touching. Tact itself: a phantom touching. Eat me up, my love, or else I’m going to eat you up. Fear of eating, fear of the edible, fear on the part of the one of them who feels loved, desired, who wants to be loved, desired, who desires to be desired, who knows there is no greater proof of love than the other’s appetite, who is dying to be eaten up, who says or doesn’t say, but who signifies: I beg you, eat me up. Want me down to the marrow. And yet manage it so as to keep me alive. But I often turn about or compromise, because I know that you won’t eat me up, in the end, and I urge you: bite me. Sign my death with your teeth.
Inked hearts & fogged minds
Prose is about what can be said and what is known and so on. Poetry is about what cannot be expressed. I mean, terrible grief, or intense erotic feeling, or even unspeakable anger are all inexpressible. You can’t put them in words and that’s why you try to put them in words. Because that’s all you’ve got.
ﺍﻟﻠﻬُﻢَّ ﺃَﺻْﻠِﺢْ ﺃَﺣْﻮَﺍﻝَ ﺍﻟﻤُﺴْﻠِﻤِِﻴﻦَ ﻓِﻲ
ﻓِﻠِﺴﻄِﻴﻦَ، ﺍﻟﻠﻬُﻢَّ ﺃَﺻْﻠِﺢْ ﺃَﺣْﻮَﺍﻝَ
ﺍﻟﻤُﺴْﻠِﻤِِﻴﻦَ ﻓِﻲ ﻓِﻠِﺴﻄِﻴﻦَ ﻭﻓﻲ ﻛُﻞِّ
ﻣَﻜَﺎﻥٍ، ﻳَﺎ ﺫَﺍ ﺍﻟﺠَﻼﻝِ ﻭَﺍﻹِﻛْﺮِﺍﻡِ .
Allahumma aslih ahwaalal-
muslimeena fi filisteen,
Allahumma aslih ahwaalal-
muslimeena fi filisteena wa fi kulli
makaanin ya dhul-jalali wal-
O Allah! Rectify the affairs of the
Muslims in Palestine. O Allah!
Rectify the affairs of the Muslims
in Palestine and in every place, O
Lord of Majesty and Bounty.
ﺍﻟﻠﻬُﻢَّ ﺇِﻧَّﻬُﻢْ ﻣَﻐْﻠُﻮﺑُﻮﻥَ ﻓَﺎﻧْﺘَﺼِﺮْ ﻟَﻬُﻢْ .
maghloobuna fantasir lahum.
O Allah! They are helpless, so
ﺭَﺑَّﻨَﺎ ﺃَﻓْﺮِﻍْ ﻋَﻠَﻴْﻬِﻢْ ﺻَﺒْﺮﺍً ﻭَﺛَﺒِّﺖْ ﺃَﻗْﺪَﺍﻣَﻬُﻢْ
ﻭَﺍﻧْﺼُﺮْﻫُﻢْ ﻋَﻠَﻰ ﺍﻟﻘَﻮْﻡِ
Rabbana afrigh ‘alayhim sabran
wa thabbit aqdamahum
wansurhum ‘alal-qawmil- kafireen.
Our Lord! Pour upon them
patience, make them steadfast,
and grant them victory over the
ﺍﻟﻠﻬُﻢَّ ﻣَﻜِّﺮْ ﻟَﻬُﻢْ، ﻭَﺍﻛْﻔِﻬِﻢْ ﺑِﻤَﺎ ﺷِﺌْﺖَ ﺇِﻥْ
ﺗَﻨْﺼُﺮْﻫُﻢْ ﻓَﻼ ﻏَﺎﻟِﺐَ ﻟَﻬُﻢْ، ﻭَﺇِﻥْ
ﺗَﺨْﺬُﻟْﻬُﻢْ ﻓَﻤَﻦْ ﺫَﺍ ﺍﻟَّﺬﻱ ﻳَﻨْﺼُﺮﻫُﻢْ ﻣِﻦْ
Allahumma makkir lahum,
wakfihim bimaa shi’t. In
tansurhum falaa ghaliba lahum,
wa in takhdhulhum fa man dhal-
ladh’ yansurhum min ba’dika.
O Allah! Plot for them, and suffice
them with what You please, if You
support them then nobody can
overpower them, and if You
forsake them, then who will be
able to support them after You?
ﻻ ﺇِﻻَ ﺇِﻻ ﺍﻟﻠﻪُ ﺍﻟﻌَﻈﻴﻢُ ﺍﻟﺤَﻠﻴﻢ، ﻻ ﺇِﻟﻪَ ﺇِﻻ
ﺍﻟﻠﻪُ ﺭَﺏَّ ﺍﻟﻌَﺮْﺵِ ﺍﻟﻌَﻈِﻴﻢِ، ﻻ
ﺇﻟﻪَ ﺇِﻻ ﺍﻟﻠﻪُ ﺭَﺏُّ ﺍﻟﺴَّﻤَﺎﻭَﺕِ ﻭَﺭَﺏُّ ﺍﻷَﺭْﺽِ
ﻭَﺭَﺏُّ ﺍﻟﻌَﺮْﺵِ ﺍﻟﻜَﺮِﻳﻢِ .
La ilaha illAllahul adhimul-
haleem. La ilaha illAllahu, rabbul-
arshil- adheem. La ilaha illAllahu
rabbus-samawaati wa rabbul-ardi
wa rabbul-arshil- kareem.
There is no God but Allah, the
Mighty the Forebearing, there is
no God but Allah, Lord of the
Mighty Throne, There is no God
but Allah, Lord of the Heavens
and Lord of the Earth and Lord of
the Noble Throne 💔