Day No. 6

by nourayasmine   Aug 27, 2014

This thirst reminds me

of winter,
of the few times rain drenched us till
we smelt like orange and old suburbs,
of the sky falling down on us,
streaming through roof gutters
to dig little gullies beside our doorsills,
of the tiniest drops of water
splashed off the street, scaring
pigeons away,
as a child bikes his way home.
It reminds me of
that yellow desert invading
the homeland we pinned on our walls,
forgotten and arid.

And this darkness.
This darkness reminds me

of winter,
of the dim lights that hiss and croon,
of watching the last ember in the hearth
turn blue, and almost hearing a violin,
of the tints in the features of this city
becoming music;
minerates, coast roads, signboards,
even the snowy moon when
it ceases to send light,
and starts sending silence.
The silence that is as smooth and melodious
as the smile of a refugee,
as a jasmine rising from the debris,
as curtains flying free,
as the blue of your eyes
that the sky had lost,
as the sound of my ankles burrowing
into your thighs,
thawing away the frost.
This darkness reminds me
of all those mosaic-like pieces of silence
that stick together into a warm whisper.

Now, it's all just dry
and pitch-black
that even
the loudest of cries
won't be heard.

Note: This is the 6th day my beloved city spends without water or electricity.


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Latest Comments

  • 3 years ago

    by Maple Tree

    I love random thoughts by Noura... she groups together her emotions and feelings and paints a picture with words... this poem speaks and oozes sorrow and pain, struggles of what was lost and devastation of the here and now.. Her visual displays are priceless!

  • 3 years ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    Judging comment:

    Your style of writing always captures my attention and pulls at my heart. It's raw and open in a way someone would observe the destruction around them and wonder why, why there cannot be light at every moment. I love your simple repetition of "reminds me" then "of winter, of..." This is quite a nostalgic piece and makes me imagine how demanding a thirst like that must be. How exhausting, how it seems to empty you of memories and hope. The imagery in the first stanza is heartwarming, such an innocence in the rain, of the "sky falling down" and it being a wonder you don't get to experience often. I love how you introduce this thirst then speak of a darkness so heavy, it reminds you of a more intimate time with this person, with warmth. These lines are breathtaking: "This darkness reminds me of all those mosaic-like pieces of silence that stick together into a warm whisper". It is like the city is trying to keep their spirit, huddling close to will away the darkness. That ending is painful and seems to echo that despair to the reader who is not even living there. A soulful poem, filled with much more than describing a city without electricity or water, but going deeper into the memories, into what remains, into the struggle for living with this thirst and darkness all around. (10)

  • 4 years ago

    by Abed