27 November 2012

untitled 27/11/2012


These words of yours
Belonging
Culture
Language
Make me want…
To feel them
Deep into my bones
Their meanings
Which I have –
Never
Understood
To the core of their depths

But
It may be
That I am
The lucky one
For not knowing
Them.

19 November 2012

non-words on the pain of wars - the war on Gaza, November 2012


Words of despair…
What are they?
Where are they…
Stuck between the pages of my thesaurus…

Words of pain…
Refuse to be pulled out from the dictionary of synonyms and antonyms…

Words of agony…
Non-existent in the whole of the Oxford dictionary.

Non-words
No words

Only something stuck inside my throat

(c) khulud kh, 2012

6 November 2012

meanings of home


(c) photos by khulud kh, 2012

Home. What is the meaning of home? How can we define it? Or, rather, can we collapse the meaning of home into one coherent concept? But why should we? It is much more captivating to de-construct its meaning and to discover a plethora of layers, dimensions and meanings to this one seemingly simple concept. 

During the past year, I’ve been engaged in thinking and re-thinking the meaning of home in different settings. These have been separate processes that are tied together in unexpected modes. And, as befitting, they all finally collapse into words on paper, ink by word, for this is the one medium in which – intriguingly enough – I feel most at HOME.

more to come soon... follow up

3 November 2012

rain - my muse, my lover

(c) painting by khulud kh, 1993


Rain – i pray you into my bones
into my mind
to create
from the sound of you
rain – don't let me become cracked dry
like the brown earth of a Tammuz
sun-crunched day

you have come so close
touched my bare bones with your rain
now they are soaked...
cracked

you have reached those geographies of me –
that naked – Madness

when you come – I become
in you
without you
you are that which soaks the dryness – all the cracks

when many run away
it is I who come to you
for life
for breath
for the wetness in you

and for –
that quality in you
the smell of the earth
when you’re gone – is the memory of you

waiting for a night
when you will come – my lover
to listen to your splashing on the asphalt
to smell your brown earth-soaked wet
and to create in your life

thank you rain – for
that sense of ALIVEness
only you – my lover

(c) khulud kh, 2012