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Buthaina al Nasiri A fiction writer & translator born in Baghdad, Iraq. She lives in Egypt at the present time. She writes stories in Arabic but poems in English. She is now studying movie making to turn her stories into short films.
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((These poems were written in the 1980s while I was working with people of different nationalities at a UN project in Egypt. We conversed mostly in English, and somehow I grew then the habit of writing riming notes to my colleagues. Last year, I started posting them online.))
Buthaina al Nasiri , 2017
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The mood has passed * Thirty Fathom deep, Lies my heart tonight, Beneath the heavy waves Of our doubts: Do you? Do I? Do we? "Yes" was easy to say, But the mood has passed, To declare love, Again. ***
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Bloody words * My head is full to the brim, With conflicting thoughts. I'm flooded with words, Bloody words. If I could pour on paper, Every one of them, How restful, I would be For the rest of the week. **
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The One Word * You wonder among other things, If love declared was true. I have thought to wrap in a word, The beautiful thoughts I've for you.
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Women of Araby * We, women of Araby, Know well our men. What makes them mad? What makes them sad? When they laugh, when they love. What responses to our whims. We read them like a book, From right to left. But Inside your Western head, I am lost, Away from home. I must decipher you From left to right. ** 6
Plans of Love ** "I've plans to love" You say, While on your table lays My young aborted love, Dissected limb by limb, Scrutinized in cold blood By your scientific eye. "Recognized let it be For what it is" you advise "Never ask what it was" How do you believe then? A love so ill-conceived Might grow to full prime. What delusions, my friend. **
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Weekends ** How funny that woman was! Could survive earthquakes, Deluges, delusions, even guilt. Just couldn't outlast Those long weekends In between. **
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A hair raising matter ** Once upon a time in the city of Baghdad Listen, kids, it’s not about your dad. A hairy man was the King’s firstborn Alas! Between two wives, he was torn One will have his hair cut, The other would rather not. Yet, he didn’t turn a hair Just sat there to glare Then swore at them both And took a solemn oath That he’d be, by God, so bold To order them both be sold. At the city’s mall, he would buy At a price not so high Someone else who doesn’t care If he’s with, or without hair. 9
Resignation * Here is my resignation From your love, man. I'll be content to soar High into your skies, With wondrous winged words, And hear your "bravos"
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Minutes of the Editorial Committee * (*) Proman declared himself a man of mood "I don't want to be rude, Or do what you won't expect And turn down report of expert. So, to be fair and clear, (**) "Buth" write in lieu of Claire" He showed points cooked in a hurry and asked experts to add curry. "For formation of this committee I will hear your repartee"
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Older man (***)Eid, raised a hand, He addressed men around, "Experts, you may be in your prime, I'm - you know- pressed for time. Or in terms statistical, I will soon turn historical. So, I would like to convey That Quick Estimate Survey will need to be accurate" Proman:" Oh don't exaggerate! In this Project, we don't worry How many sambuks, what lorry! Give us half percent reality! Come show some ability. When you go to the market, 12
Please change your basket, And give us some break, Instead of ham, sell steak�
*** This is a minute of a meeting at the FAO regional project where I worked for, sometime in the 1980s *The project manager (proman) was a kind of a dictator. **Buth, short for Buthaina, yours truly. Claire was the secretary of the project. *** Mr. Eid was a statistician, and being an old man, his ways were old and traditional and was not very popular with the proman.
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In solidarity with Magda * Hello, darling Mag raised yet a white flag? I promised, didn't I? to send A poem to you, my friend. First, I'd like to tell that all here is well. Of experts we have more, Than we ever had before. Michael is the king supervising everything. What about people there? With you, Mona and Claire? Have you got Marlene? Or has she ever been seen? Around the office again looking for some gain? Anyway, be at peace, In matters, such as these, We, women, will unite To defend our sisters' right. ** 14
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Haiku: 1 or 2 Lovers can’t be one Only true in just one case When you love yourself
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Alternative to 1 or 2 Lovers can’t be one Will always be uniquely two Except Narcissists.
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The Bright Side of Crisis * The worst of man's vices Is his fear of crisis? Now why be a pessimist And miss the sun behind the mist? There is good in catastrophes Even wars have trophies To clear up this mystery Here's my friend's history. His name was lucky Jim One day out of whim He seized the chance To look for romance. Everything went smooth, To tell you God's truth, But not for very long! To cut short, this sad song, He was found by the wife, Planning for future life. For a while, our friend 16
Thought this was the end! Soon he came to realize What he thought wasn't wise Things turned to his benefit As if fate had never hit. Now his meals are freshly made Always has a warm bed, The wife promised not to roam, She’ll always stay at home. She will do what is right Won't let him out of sight Now, things are not so bad, Only occasionally, he gets mad. **
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Love and fishes * Love is not a dead fish To study in your lab Make reports of Or identify in species. It has no names, Arabic, English, or Latin. It's a living thing As wide as the skies As deep as the seas Can you measure these? Love is a certainty, Either it is or is not
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A request * Leave your heart behind, Pulsing life, Into The emptiness of my chest. For miles and miles away, My heart will travel To you Wiping loneliness Off your brows. **
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In Two Years ** In Two Years How the world has changed, When the West met the East. Then they fought, Now deep in thought Jokes were shared And tears were shed Doubts, longing, sometimes, fears, But in between, Deserts were made green, Sour seas turned sweet. In two years, Love is born. **
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A census crisis ** If you can father So much Poetry In one weekend We'll soon have a census crisis: Heaps Of Words Piled On the one man- audience
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Royal Proposal * Queens, I’ve heard Choose their men, and propose. So, I, Queen of the parched land, Hereby, propose to thee, O Prince of the Golden Sea To be joined in ethereal wedlock Until death may us depart. I promise not to cook your food Not to mend your socks. My bed you will not share Your child won’t be mine. When you need me, I won’t be there. I don’t have riches, To give you golden things, On your many celebrations. 22
Homeless we are doomed to be, Sought and hunted by all. Our home address is The whole Wide World.
Still, will you accept? A heart of gold That only beats for you? Will you take this refugee queen? Bare of worldly splendor, Covered only with pride, Crowned with wild dreams, Thronged on broken wings. Will you take these? All that I own, In return for half of your heart? And the drastic fact, That in times of crises, Another woman, you’ll stand by; 23
I accept. The few moments you can spare, The crumps of love thrown my way. Because to choose, Between pain without you, And pain with you, my love, I’d rather have you. * **
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Haiku: 25 March *
Winds blow mad today Though it is only March Hare Fleeing April’s fool
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No-Kisses Zone * By the new Caliph's Decree Numbered one eighty three Kisses are not allowed In the city of Baghdad.
If two are caught kissing They'll soon be missing Locked up together For a week or forever.
The Caliph, sitting on the throne Said "Kisses in the air thrown" "Should be gathered in a net And well soaked until wet.
If not", the Caliph said, 26
"The kiss plague will spread"
Off went the Caliph's men On their horses to the plain, To catch kisses off the air With fingers cold and bare.
Kisses were in great numbers And all sparkling embers; So every man burned his hand, As the kisses rolled to ground.
And owing to that abuse, Baghdad got in the news: Everything was in dire Due to bushes' fire. **
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