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
excessively
mundane
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
but
am not here
better mark me absent
‘What is the solution to this campaign… do we stay or… ’
I don’t care
cries of
another
faceless
victim /suicide bomber
terrorist /freedom fighter
activist/ conservative
Muslim/ Kaafir
Please
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!’
Bismillah!
pausing from the rush
to the
next lecture
next meeting
and the next
next
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
tattered
what food we have
what money
what medicine
in never enough
CRACK
curses right and left
as I smile through another power outage
fumbling for a matchstick
singing your names
Beloved
Nubian(Q) 