Nothing remains in the horizon but the flicker of birds cleaving the sky
and the land we inhabit, the one that encompasses the faults
and sorrows and the anger it suppresses, the bloodied intentions immersed in
treachery and malice, the crows cry and disappear between the wrinkles
of darkness in the deserted landscape, the phoenix riding black clouds
and bringing bad omens, an explosion of unknown hatred pours its fire on
houses, bodies wedged together, blood oozes and colors the beds of
lovers and exultant curtains, the joys of the evening and the children’s
rainbow backpacks, their laughs are puffs of breath from the beaks of
fallen pigeons, the ashes here will not bring back life, so quit praying, the
ababil birds will not protect your Mecca from the mammoths of
obliteration.
Author Bio:
I was born and raised in Baghdad, Iraq. Both of my parents were archaeologists, so I can safely say that I lived my life surrounded by history. I grew up hearing stories about museums and artifacts, and I guess this is what sparked my love for discovery and the sense of wanting to get to the bottom of things, which I sometimes attempt to do through writing. I write in different genres, but mainly poetry and flash fiction.
I have been a freelance translator (English/Arabic) for more than 15 years. Along the way, I did some studying here and there: a BA in Translation, a Bachelor in Professional Writing, and now I’m in the last stages of finishing my MFA from Lindenwood University in Missouri.
I currently live in Vancouver, Beautiful British Columbia (as the license plate very accurately proclaims) with my husband and two children.
and the land we inhabit, the one that encompasses the faults
and sorrows and the anger it suppresses, the bloodied intentions immersed in
treachery and malice, the crows cry and disappear between the wrinkles
of darkness in the deserted landscape, the phoenix riding black clouds
and bringing bad omens, an explosion of unknown hatred pours its fire on
houses, bodies wedged together, blood oozes and colors the beds of
lovers and exultant curtains, the joys of the evening and the children’s
rainbow backpacks, their laughs are puffs of breath from the beaks of
fallen pigeons, the ashes here will not bring back life, so quit praying, the
ababil birds will not protect your Mecca from the mammoths of
obliteration.
Author Bio:
I was born and raised in Baghdad, Iraq. Both of my parents were archaeologists, so I can safely say that I lived my life surrounded by history. I grew up hearing stories about museums and artifacts, and I guess this is what sparked my love for discovery and the sense of wanting to get to the bottom of things, which I sometimes attempt to do through writing. I write in different genres, but mainly poetry and flash fiction.
I have been a freelance translator (English/Arabic) for more than 15 years. Along the way, I did some studying here and there: a BA in Translation, a Bachelor in Professional Writing, and now I’m in the last stages of finishing my MFA from Lindenwood University in Missouri.
I currently live in Vancouver, Beautiful British Columbia (as the license plate very accurately proclaims) with my husband and two children.
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