Rest in Peace on Your Birthday

It is the 7^th of November again. A day etched in memory; a forgotten birthday, one that brings me tears every year, clenching my heart in remembrance.

Already my eyes are watery, I miss you. I've missed you and I can't stop. I don't want to, but I wonder how others carry on without their loved one, how do they stop the tears?

I remember your bright lipsticks, and how my dad didn't like it when I used yours or played with them.

I remember your perfume, well sort of. I remember it wasn't fruity or with vanilla like the ones we get these days. Yours was what my mother called "heavy". It was yours. It defined you. It was etched in your scent.

I remember when you used to stay over at our place, I always wanted you to sleep next to me and I hated it when you had to leave. When you did, I'd come home from school and smell the pillows, till I had sniffed your scent away entirely.

The year after you died, I started university and it was so close to your home. But the house was closed and you weren't there. I wished you were alive so I can stay over and may take care of you or at least hold you tight.

I remember sleeping on your sick bed towards the end.

Life's not been easy; it never is. But I still wish you were here. I wanted to share my successes with you, my ups and downs.

I wish… but I can only remember.

Rest in peace grandmother Lolo.

The Picture, a poem also written for Lolo on her birthday in 2014.

Beloved Egyptian Poet Abdel-Rahman El-Abnoudi Dies at 77

by: Marcia Lynx Qualey

Abdel-Rahman El-Abnoudi, renowned Egyptian poet, has died at 77:

According to reports from multiple news sources, El-Abnoudi, legend of colloquial poetry, has died. As a poet, writer, activist, and public legend, El-Abnoudi was well-loved across Egypt. As Mona Anis wrote in 2008:

If the poet Abdel-Rahman El-Abnoudi gives you an appointment for an interview in a public place, you are well advised to think twice. The likelihood of holding his attention for more than few minutes, much as you both might try, is almost next to none. Such an interview, however, is a good opportunity to get first-hand experience of El-Abnoudi’s popularity and of his immediately recognisable public persona.

El-Abnoudi told Anis that he was proud of his movie-star-like popularity:

“I have elevated the status of poetry and poets among the poor and among the fellaheen who wear galabiyyas,” he says. “In the past, they used to think a poet was a poor wanderer telling folk tales to the accompaniment of his rababh. I grew up as a poor peasant myself, tending sheep, drawing water, fishing in the Nile and tilling the land, while all the time listening to the songs people chant while working. I know how to give voice to their sorrows and their joys in a way that goes straight to their hearts.”

Born in the village of Abnoud in Upper Egypt, and originally called Abdel-Rahman Mahmoud Ahmed Abdel-Wahab, the self-renamed “El-Abnoudi” was a poet, a writer, and a researcher into popular literary forms.

El-Abnoudi’s Death on the Asphalt was listed as one of “Africa’s Great Books of the 20th Century” by a panel of judges at the Zimbabwe International Book Fair, although not much of his work is available in translation.

Poems by El-Abnoudi in translation:

The Prisoners’ Laughter, translated by Aisha El-Awady and Ahdaf Soueif

The Usual Sorrows, translated by Ahmed Aboul Enein

Al Midan, translated by Samia Mehrez’s “Translating the Revolution” class

Ebb and Tide, translated by Mona Anis

Writing, translated by Mona Anis

Interviews and profiles:

Mona Anis in 2008: “An Upper Egyptian Odyssey”

Youssef Rakha interviews al-Abnoudi: “Our Revolution”

Note: This article was originally posted at: http://arablit.org/2015/04/21/beloved-egyptian-poet-abdel-rahman-el-abnoudi-dies-at-77/#comment-29539  (permission was taken from its author to repost/reblog)

The Picture - In Memory of My Grandmother

This post was originally scheduled for Friday, 7 November, 2014, what would have been my grandmother's birthday – but due to personal reasons, I could not post on that day.

This poem is dedicated to and inspired by her, the life she lived as well as that of her sisters, some of whom have also passed away.

The Picture

An old grey and white picture

Sits silently in the entrance

Happy, youthful faces

Smiling, welcoming all who enter.

Seven sisters and one brother;

A family,

Young and vibrant once.

Time passes,

The picture stays,

Slowly fading.

One by one

They are consumed,

A face fades,

A smile is erased.

One by one

They disappear,

Snatched by Time’s

Ever-moving clock.

A family photo

Welcomes all

But brings both

Smiles and heartaches.

A greying, fading photo

With a hundred inter-connected lives,

With a thousand intricately-bound memories.

Broken - 5SF

Your feet bleed as you enter the dark room. Broken glass litters the floor. In the faint light they would have appeared as pretty pearls and crystals. But that is not us, not anymore; just shards of a broken life, a dying love.

Before you is the outcome of my emotional storm.

This week's five-sentence prompt is "Pieces". I used the picture for a bit of inspiration. 

Holding On - Jezri's 55-Word Challenge

Once upon a time, I had a dream, a child of my own flesh and blood, mind and soul; a dream that came bearing joy and love, a dream that left as a light goes out. Now, I hold on to a memory and a lonely teddy bear.

- Story is 48 words and inspired by all 3 pictures.

I also had Jackie Barreau, her ordeal and poetry collection "Through a Mother's Eyes" in mind.

More about Barreau here

Check out my review of her book here