28 October 2013

ديوان الجنون

some words come to me naturally in Arabic

الجنون لم يبدأ بعد 

فكانت قصيدة
واحدةٌ فقط 
من ديوان اللهفة
سنتمتع بمسار الإبداع 
في تكوين كل قصيدة 
بعد سطر 
ليكونَ جنون 
أنت وأنا نكتبهُ 
سطراً بعد سطر 
حتى يصبح ديوان الجنون الكامل

خلوديات الجنون, حيفا تشرين أول

17 October 2013

not "exotic" enough

(c) photo by khulud 

It’s not right.
my sexuality is not – 
an exotic exhibit 
for you
feed your 

I refuse to – 
only for your –

This is me
With all complexities
And this is the –

and if the margins are just not
or are too much for you,

then you need to
drop the

(c) khulud khamis, haifa 

16 October 2013

on the art of escaping

I panic
I freeze
Then -
all I want is
A trapped animal
logic -

carrying the -
like a turtle carries her
can't escape.
no matter -

(c) khulud khamis, haifa 2013

13 October 2013

untitled october [1]

(c) photo by khulud

vesti – bular
rea – lity
                                move to the side
just a bit

neuro – nitis
                                move differently in my brain
Making up
New structure –
Unthought-of form
                                A bit off to the side of – logic
fresh rhythm

learn to –

9 October 2013

the Carpe Diem shoes

(c) photographs by Claudia Levin

Browsing my Facebook feed this morning, I was stopped at the sight of these two photographs, taken by Claudia Levin, with the short text: “I left the house and in front of the door... shoes that tell a story.”

Associatively, intuitively, I saw violence, rape, exploitation, pain, tears, and sadness in my mind’s eye. I started to comment something in that direction, but then I stopped.

Yes, the shoes tell a story – but maybe it’s a story of midnight pleasure, of taking the shoes off with a loud laugh and walking barefoot home, feeling the cool asphalt.

Maybe she was alone, maybe on a pleasantly surprising first date which continued until dawn, maybe with a partner, or friends.

Maybe she was sad, maybe she lost her cat and couldn’t continue walking in those high heels, while searching for the cat. Or dog.

Or – maybe she finally understood the physical price she’s been paying for years for wearing such high heels and decided right then and there to just shed them off her forever.

And yes, maybe the story is that of my first association – of violence, of a woman in prostitution badly beaten, or a woman dragged to a corner to be viciously raped, losing her high heels while her feet scratched the sidewalk.

And maybe none of the above.

Why am I writing this post? Just a feeling that I wanted to put this in writing, to document. For some reason, after thinking about them all day, these particular shoes and the way they are positioned in the middle of the sidewalk, seem to tell a very special story. And my gut feeling is that the story has a good end as dawn breaks. A feeling that their owner whispered into the night, to no one in particular but herself, “carpe diem” as she was taking them off. Just a feeling.

6 October 2013

on diagnosis

There is –
not enough
Life has –
with one diagnosis
been surprised.
In a mess
a welter
of words
of scenes
of beginnings –
of stories.
time is short
time is fast
and I still have –
so many stories

to write.

(c) khulud khamis, October 2013 [Haifa]