
Women of Kobani
No, you aren’t fighting just for your people,
The Kurdish Braves,
But for all of us,
The 51 percent –
The 100 percent.

No, you aren’t fighting just for your people,
The Kurdish Braves,
But for all of us,
The 51 percent –
The 100 percent.

Like arid land in summer
My dry heart thirsts for you,
RIding a tide of lust,
I surge and search for you…

When inside,
You wish – out
So as to witness from a distance
How it ripples, waves…
When outside,
You wish – in…

I like to be
Stranger in a Strange land
Like to not be
where you are from
where I’m from
Not belong
an Other

Happiness pursues me
But she is not my match.
I will always beat her
In this game of catch.

What a waste
The tamed shrew –
She could have won an Olympic gold,
She could have been a magnificent mime,
She could have written plays better than Shakespeare,
Excuse the sacrilege

You came onto my life
Like a freak wave
Everything rose,
Then crashed over the deck

Sperm, milk, birth waters,
Saliva, blood, tears…
For hundreds of millions of years –
Transferred
In an Endless Chain of Being

I was the most desired maiden
down at the foothills
of Tora Bora.
You might remember
our mothers’ warnings:
The spirits of the mountain
would demise any soul
who dares set foot
on the ancient Goddess’s grounds…

Shoes separate us from earth,
Clothes – from wind,
Religion – from our sexuality,
Sunglasses and sunscreen
From the light of day

To the Ethiopians, I am Faranji,
To the Sephardi – Ashkenazi,
To the Japanese, – Geijin,
To the Mexicans – Gringa.
To the Palestinians – an invader…
A poetic search for a positive identity among multiple social negative ones.

We , the βeta people
Are the ones for whom
Morality, Religion, Loyalty
Were created,

A poem summarizing how I gather strength and primal power as a woman throughout my life

No, you aren’t fighting just for your people,
The Kurdish Braves,
But for all of us,
The 51 percent –
The 100 percent.

Like arid land in summer
My dry heart thirsts for you,
RIding a tide of lust,
I surge and search for you…

When inside,
You wish – out
So as to witness from a distance
How it ripples, waves…
When outside,
You wish – in…

I like to be
Stranger in a Strange land
Like to not be
where you are from
where I’m from
Not belong
an Other

Happiness pursues me
But she is not my match.
I will always beat her
In this game of catch.

What a waste
The tamed shrew –
She could have won an Olympic gold,
She could have been a magnificent mime,
She could have written plays better than Shakespeare,
Excuse the sacrilege

You came onto my life
Like a freak wave
Everything rose,
Then crashed over the deck

Sperm, milk, birth waters,
Saliva, blood, tears…
For hundreds of millions of years –
Transferred
In an Endless Chain of Being

I was the most desired maiden
down at the foothills
of Tora Bora.
You might remember
our mothers’ warnings:
The spirits of the mountain
would demise any soul
who dares set foot
on the ancient Goddess’s grounds…

Shoes separate us from earth,
Clothes – from wind,
Religion – from our sexuality,
Sunglasses and sunscreen
From the light of day

To the Ethiopians, I am Faranji,
To the Sephardi – Ashkenazi,
To the Japanese, – Geijin,
To the Mexicans – Gringa.
To the Palestinians – an invader…
A poetic search for a positive identity among multiple social negative ones.

We , the βeta people
Are the ones for whom
Morality, Religion, Loyalty
Were created,

A poem summarizing how I gather strength and primal power as a woman throughout my life