poem
'Rescue': Sehri Tales selections, Day 2
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 2 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Rescue
‘Ignite’: Sehri Tales selections, Day 1
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 1 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Ignite.
POETRY / My inner rebel & I
How do I tell her, that things often don't work out the way you expect them to, / And that you are, in fact, alone in this
POETRY / In another life, I’d still live as her
I've lived as her;/ I've known my mother’s plight.
POETRY / My Parents’ Window
Years later, when I would no longer live in my parents' room and grow to have my own,/ I would disregard all the hours I had spent by the window staring at beetles hiding.
Sweet shop vendors
We will chase after stringless kites, Down the road
Poetry / Tongue
I heard myself speak today It made me want to Cut out my tongue.
POETRY / Bloom
But I bloom like a flower:/ Soft and strong.
POETRY / palestine is my grieving mother
rise, rise—now evening dies: sun-born in valleys with burning olive trees—where women like me plod one day at a time,
'Rescue': Sehri Tales selections, Day 2
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 2 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Rescue
‘Ignite’: Sehri Tales selections, Day 1
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 1 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Ignite.
My inner rebel & I
How do I tell her, that things often don't work out the way you expect them to, / And that you are, in fact, alone in this
In another life, I’d still live as her
I've lived as her;/ I've known my mother’s plight.
My Parents’ Window
Years later, when I would no longer live in my parents' room and grow to have my own,/ I would disregard all the hours I had spent by the window staring at beetles hiding.
Sweet shop vendors
We will chase after stringless kites, Down the road
Tongue
I heard myself speak today It made me want to Cut out my tongue.
Bloom
But I bloom like a flower:/ Soft and strong.
Spring
Autumn transcended Winter– / Crispness in the air fell pale.
palestine is my grieving mother
rise, rise—now evening dies: sun-born in valleys with burning olive trees—where women like me plod one day at a time,
