Category: Poetry

Haibun for when my father does yoga for the first time

Rukan Saif The last time I saw my father this close to God was when the doctors cut open his chest and took his heart into their palms and named it lost. So when he declines the call to prayer for...

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My girlfriend threw up on every carnival ride we went on, without exception

Katie Jean Shinkle The lights of the carousel blink once twice in distress.     You are on main stage dressed in all-black to blend in, to never be seen. Instead, I squirrel you away my...

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Offertory

Brian Woerner I put my bloody tooth on a plate, spin it for luck. If there were two, I could rattle them like dice. I think my tooth is rooting for me. Little compass, I spin it again to commune with...

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No One Buys Flowers During Genocide

Fatihah Quadri When a country hates another country, the  children suffer everyday from the sun. A house falls and the dream shatters to the ground. The first thing my mother taught me about...

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White Theatre Professionals Can Hold Space For Us All

Raya Tuffaha And what if I damn you? If I write the explosion in stageable italics, if I poeticize and profit-size and donate and educate, what if I learn your language and boundaries, then what?...

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the miracle of loaves & fishes

Mandy Shunnarah Nobody  ever asks who  baked the bread, coaxed the yeast &  flour with alchemy, or  beckoned its rise with knuckles  & patience. Nobody asks who smoked  the fish, much...

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zero

Nadine Channaoui just like that thirty-five thousand gone demolished killed starved diseased   one thousand for each year i have circled the sun another thousand for the circle my daughter has made...

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you did your duty

Majida Halaweh to you who look at me with pity in your eyes: i know your love for me makes you ask how i am but it does not extend beyond that.   i know you sit around lamenting my...

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If you were with me in the war

Gawad Elakkad Translated from the Arabic by Hazem Jamjoum & lisa minerva luxx Your fingers plunge into my palm   swaying like gazelles in the forest of the mind   I dream of them         a...

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From Where I Came

Omar Khoury I pressed my nose upon my mother’s sleeve, the incense nestled within it, both welcoming and overwhelming. Her hair whips thin, their curls like cresting waves crashing upon themselves....

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