“PHONETICALLY SPEAKING” To reflect the fast pace of world news, my blog is probably best served as a stream-of-consciousness text. Fast and unadulterated. With this approach, and on first encounter, text might not seem to scan. This is because I am dyslexic. Instead of keeping the proof-readers busy, I would rather let my blog updates of my visual work stand as a record of my experience of dyslexia, which I am keen that you now get to enjoy too. Unlike some news outlets, I hereby excuse myself the need for a ‘corrections’ section! The excitement of a new language is something I’m quite familiar with, and it is with this ‘joie de vivre’ that I am delighted to guide you through my thought and work processes, more phonetically (than fanatically) speaking.
A Confession
I stand between shame and relief
I breathe…
The missiles missed this time
Truth is, they didn’t’ really miss
Someone’s house is destroyed
but not the house I know so well
Someone’s family is grieving
but not the one whose name I carry
I linger…
between shame and relief
I breathe…
I… breathe…
I tell myself
‘this flesh, torn and scattered,
is not flesh I have ever embraced’.
I soothe myself,
‘Nor are these small lifeless hands
the ones with a crayon I’ve traced’
I…breathe…
This time…the missiles missed
those whose names are engraved on my lips
This time
they didn’t stop
those hearts beating in my chest
They live…
I breathe…
I…breathe…
But I must confess
Every time the bombs fall on Gaza
I want answers
What did they strike?
What street did they blow up?
What neighborhood did they destroy?
What lives did they steal?
Aware of my guilt I whisper a prayer
Dear God, please don’t let it be the ones I know.
Dear God, please don’t let it be the ones I love.
Dear God….
Ya Allah…
Ya Allah…
Ya Allah…
And when it’s over
And while a less fortunate family weeps
I stand between shame and relief
I breathe…
I… breathe…
Thank God my loved ones were spared
This time.
January 3, 2009
