Hello world, or maybe in this case, one anonymous reader. A few updates and a poem. Things have not been very poetic in my head or gut. I feel drained of creative energy and no amount of staring at the clouds has helped.
I will write again, am sure. In the meantime, I find myself dealing with admin work that promotes creativity, which I suspect is better than doing nothing. My second book “Inkstains on the edge of light” is finally published in the US and can now be found for purchase on Amazon. This is good news for me, an Arab woman who once, ten years ago, in the bubble of an inebriated Beirut moment, looked out on the universe and thought, I would like to publish a book one day. My first- unofficial- book ran 13 copies only, and was hand cut, printed, designed, bound and inscribed by myself at a local internet cafe in Beirut. Now on my first and second officially published books can be found in Dubai, Beirut and the cyberworld through Amazon. Maybe when the third book is out, I can believe in poetry.
We have another Poetician event on the 29th of November in Dubai. And then I am going to have to take all this energy accumulating and unleash some love on the Beirut crowds I miss so much, for another Poetician event end of December in Beirut. For the Dubai folks, you can see the facebook invite on this link:
Join us, if you love spoken word, poetry and music!
And now for the poem. This is by one of our oldest poetician members…Monique was reading with us in Beirut in 2007 and started off the whole idea with me. She remains supportive, wonderful and a closeted writer who only shares once in a while. I shall have to track her down more often and see where she posts her little gems and steal them for us here. Enjoy the poem, I believe it has to do with the very wonderful and honorable world of Lebanese politicians…if you ask me. Thank you Monique. Keep writing.
You Can Find A Pierrot In all of them
Sometimes we feel like a tired clown face
from all the make up
the type of ink that doesn’t go off easily
when the clown is sweating onstage
but he tries to remove it out of the act,
now that’s a different story
which they don’t tell
I just watched an interview with a clown
expressing how happy she is
to see people smiling to her
when she performs her act
as if they are the performance
and not the clown
when the crowd genuinely laughs
while the only person who has to force a painted smile;
a depressed clown
probably thinking of his make up