This is my Prayer

this is my prayer

wake up to

wipe the grime

off my eyes

on this slowly tipping floor

wash the spittle as I brush my teeth

shudder from the early morning as I dress

a mouthful of bland juice

grab the keys

press the gas

pass the same scenes  

spellbound as I watch the beginning of my day



rising above it all

tiptoeing between sleeping faces

a peeking foot

a grumbled oath

continuing on to the Azans echoes

blindly grab for a toothbrush that isn’t mine

fill the bucket

muffle my cry

shiver badly as I make my wuddu

the sun warming

gently performing

observe the transparency of these veins

fold my hands

softly sing my Beloveds names

I answered when you called my name


am not here

better mark me absent

‘What is the solution to this campaign… do we stay or… ’

I don’t care

cries of



victim /suicide bomber

terrorist /freedom fighter

activist/ conservative

Muslim/ Kaafir


let me lose myself in anything but this

blessed reality

can be found in my

slow but measured movements

as I

‘cut the lettuce and the tomatoes,

add the zaytoon and the gibna modafara,

pour the oil,

sprinkle shamar,

grind the fool with kobytal shai,

test the shatta bil laymoon,

lower the heat on the sajook,

ready al seenaya,

did you bring the bread,

clean the dishes after,

before you sit boil the water,

gooly bismillah ya bit!’


pausing from the rush

to the

next lecture

next meeting

and the next



looking up

a lone bird prowls the sky  

and in discontent I sigh

‘Take me with you… ‘

… but am fine

I know

it’s not much

the ends of my dresses


what food we have

what money

what medicine

in never enough


curses right and left

as I smile through another power outage

fumbling for a matchstick

singing your names