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Laala Kashef Alghata

 

Laala Kashef Alghata is a twice-published poet and novelist, student and the editor of the poetry journal Write Me a Metaphor. Her debut novel made her the first Bahraini to publish a book directly in English. Her latest book, Behind the Mask: A Folded Heart (2006) is a poetry and prose collection, and is currently available on Amazon.co.uk. She is published extensively online, being a poet-in-residence in both Soul to Soul and ArgoBoat, and appearing in poetry journals and magazines such as All Things Girl, La Fenetre, Because We Write and elsewhere. She writes regularly for both the Bahrain and Kuwait issues of Clientele, a lifestyle magazine, and lives in Bahrain.

 

 

 

 

I Want to Feel Van Gogh's Night

Like swirls wrapped tightly around me
and how comfort can be blue,
and black spikes are not always evil,
I want to kiss the night.
Like his strokes, so crude
and the city, so quiet,
I want to merge
crude and noisy.

The stars, so yellow,
each its own sun
and how his night is light,
but the people sleep.

I want to feel Van Gogh's night,
I want to sleep bathed in light.

 

 

The Nature of Signs

We look for signs in the creases
of a lily's skirt, or the feeling
of fingers pressed into our arms.

We hunt for life in the dirt and grime,
go so far as to pick up a knife
and shave the stems of plants,
water them thoroughly when we see
green flecked between the brown.

We look for signs, but signs sometimes
come to us, in a friend's kiss
or warm embrace, or underneath the sheets
at night when we realise: we are alive.

Words we want stay on the tip
of our tongues and yet our lips
overflow with currents we don't want
exposed. With our fingers bare
and our hearts open, we wait.

 

 

DALI'S ROSE

         (Inspired by Dali's Rose Meditative) 


The rose hangs in the air,
in the balance of probability
bleeding beauty gently
into its surroundings,
and whoever loved
that loved not at first sight?

Stemless, its petals fold back
and I want to climb into its womb
and dissolve in its softness,
forget the world while hovering
in the sky with no visible means
of support.

There is a drop on the petal's lip
and my cheeks are wet.



 

 



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