Bare yourself

Aliaa MagdyElmahdy is an Egyptian feminist who recently published a series of nude photos including some of herself on her blog. She did this as a political statement to protest her right as a woman to live with freedom without being controlled by chauvinistic ideals and restricted by societal norms.

Her blog is called A Rebel’s Diary and the nude photos were shocking to many people.

 

 

 

 

 

on the importance of wearing proper undergarments during even simple exercise as walking in the neighbourhood

She was walking

in Mishref

with a slight smile on her face,

swinging her arms,

as I drove past

I saw her light grey

bra strap

slip down her  right

shoulder

and she adjusted

it.

How tiresome,

I thought,

being a female

who has

endured

rogue bra straps

of all kinds.

 

 

 

Paheli

To be loved by a ghost…

Late, but always on Time

Burying my face

into your furry chest

biting your nipples

emerging

delirious

pleasantly disoriented

after

inhaling

your mad-hatted

desire.

Succumbing to

moments,

only moments

and then the

wolf within you

becomes

the faithful dog.

 

 

candy apples

candy colored rainbows

flying in the sky

like canes

and snakes

and puppy dog

tails

you will have none

you say

sushi is enough

I wipe a morsel

away from your lips

and try to sort out

whether your problems are

egotistical

chauvinistical

or simply

whimsical

I can’t say

I can’t say

but I haven’t disappeared yet

and perhaps that’s

a sign.

Candy apples

red

shiny

and hard

Share, you and me

on this long journey of

brief encounters

fulfilling nothing

except fears

and prophecies that

are no longer valid on paper.

Free me. And yourself.

 

what’s in your car boot?

Heightened security checks at the entrance to General Assembly building results in securitymen finding a bottle of Chivas whiskey and a red lingerie item with black polka dots in the car boot of a secretary to one of the members of parliament. Both items were in a bag. Some members of parliament tried to interfere and hush the incident but the items were confiscated and sent to the relevant authorities (Link)

 

 

white rhinoceros

 

white rhinoceros

you beautifully

antique

creature

I want to ride you through the masses

of red geraniums

in my garden

trample the pelagorniums

stamp through

rosemary and lavender

bushes

and then whinny with you

as you raise your head

with its short neck

and point your horn to the

moon.

I want

you

white rhinoceros

to sip chai

with me

in the fairy garden

little Darina will flutter around your tail

and turn you into

a miniature rhino

without the -ceros

for a while

while we contemplate

and adulate

and count how many seeds

the black ants have stashed away.

Tell me stories

my big white rhino with a -ceros

as we tumble in bed

with night caps on our heads

and little feathers

to tickle each other’s underarms

promise not to tickle too hard

and kick me out of bed

into the algae pond.

Sri Lassta has cast a net and

has promised to make me

his own special

meal

on a lily pad in the pond

with a giant white

blossom

for us to cuddle

and chortle

and tell

our little tales

White rhinoceros

impending graciousness

My love of life.

 

reasons to believe

Raghad had read about the woman in the local paper. She was a mother of four children. When the  father came home, the children told him that their mother had left them and gone to live in a flat in Salmiya which she had rented on her own. The husband apparently had no idea of his wife’s unhappiness, for she had to be unhappy to runaway from home. He informed his wife’s brothers that she had deserted the family home with no prior notification. The brothers learned that their sister had no real reason or grievance against her husband. She just wanted to abandon her life and start over. Her husband raised a court case against her to order her back home and won the case. But the woman still won’t go back.

Raghad continued to saute the onions in the deep pan and thought about the insanely brave woman. There is always the question of “What if….” What if she abandoned her husband, her children, and went off to lead a life of peace, of no obligations, no responsibilities, and no worries?  To do as she pleased. To come and go as she desired without asking permission, without being accountable to anyone.

She thought about Hassan and how he would have been the perfect partner. But that was just it: he would have been. Their union again after so many years would be impossible. He had his own family and she had her own. Breaking free would just create chaos in both their lives. And even so, there were no guarantees that any union between them would flourish after going through family break ups. She would not be blind to the obvious facts. She must be selfish and enjoy her life.

No, thought Raghad. If she ever summoned the resolution to leave, it would be a departure for irrevocable freedom, a step into singular, independent and assertive living.

And immediately after she tossed in the chunks of chicken, she felt guilty for her ridiculous thoughts and asked for forgiveness.

story

Protected: being appreciated

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return the love

The older your parents get, the more hugs they really need, even if they push you away.

 

 

Protected: I surrender

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Disabled teenagers

A while ago I read an interesting article about a nurse who helped a disabled  teenager deal with sexual tension by buying him a vibrating sex toy.

This is a controversial topic because there is a fine line between assistance and possible abuse.

Disabled teenagers are prone to the same physical frustrations that any teenagers go through and possible even more. I agree that there should be national guidelines that help caregivers deal with these often unspoken of problems.

If  you had a disabled teenager in your care, would you take steps to help her or him out to release sexual tension?

trundling along

Tonight I killed two mosquitoes with my bare hands. The first one I smashed as I clapped  two hands around it. It wedged between my fingers. The other, I killed with my left hand, smashing it against the desk. This morning I was more merciful. The mosquito was buzzing around the window screen and I moved the screen open and gently waved it outside.

I’m not pushing it. I figure when the surge of creativity swells, there will be no holding it back. So I’m not really fretting. It’s a bit like taking time to do some weeding, while you’re waiting for your seedlings to produce flower buds. I am humming a bit out of tune, pretending to ignore the growing estrangement between me and my creativity.

Perhaps it is chaos. Or it could be I am standing in stagnant muddy waters. No ripples. No clarity. No reflection. Murky depths that I must trudge along through.

I understand but  I also don’t completely accept my situation. It may be that I have turned myself inside out for others and not really turned inside within myself, to connect, to touch, and to explore.

The poems come to me at the worse possible moments.  I lost three poems a few nights ago. They bubbled through my thoughts, overflowing. It was dark and we were in bed. I did not want to explain why I had to get up and write. I thought the words would wait to be noted down the following morning. But they were long gone.