Tuesday, May 1, 2018




and albeit the cimmerian thoughts
we hanker after
and the brumal evenings we adore
albeit all the darkened pens we write with
and the words we cherry-pick
albeit how gossamery is our credence in an aeonian bliss
we will
soar like merry,  merry swallows to perch on the first effloresced branches of the spring
a confabulated lie
that we chose to sadden ourselves
we worship the eldest and the youngest of all clays
and admire their sagacity
yet choose none of the two
and stay hanged, in between
out of fear that glee would
flee in a moment when we choose to live in the moment
thence, they fear us
thence, we fear ourselves
for being the scarecrows of all the seasons
we choose a room, a corner, a word, and silence


for us the dusk, for the world the dawn
my devils, my white pale devils
that became acquainted with my fears and leaps of faith
and this conundrum called life
we have hearkened enough
from those closer than the jugular vein
for us the dusk, for the world the dawn
we have hearkened enough
of these talks
like knives, we have been swallowing
behind the doors, we hearkened to
in sotto voce uttered
or stentorian
they are the same
and the degree of the wound is the same
as if we are to them emptiness embodied
a farrago of in capabilities embodied
and our glory! our fame! is a jejune, jejune land
when shall we tergiversate these loathsome crudes?
when shall they cease to chaperon us?
their care is akin to the amarulence of hatred
for us the dusk, for the world the dawn


Forget me in the darkness of sylvan lands
As a golem unwanted
I want to touch my gelid being
I want to scratch my being
Till all it says is a heinous ennui
And it ends by throwing its instrument, my moribund
Now they pity me!
Now they remembered to pity me when I reached the apogee of carelessness!
Nauseated by what I recount
Yet, I recount what was true
It was me


ILHEM ISSAOUI is a 25-year-old Tunisian translator and poetry and short stories writer. Some of her poems and short stories have appeared both online and in print in magazines including Three line poetry, Salis Online Magazine, Mind Magazine, Mad Swirl Magazine, Jaffatelaqlam, Danse Macabre, About Place Journal…She is also the author of a collection of poems entitled Fragments of a Wounded Soul. She is an Academic researcher in the field of Suicidology at The Faculty of Arts and Humanities of Sousse and a member of Psycho-Trauma Tunisie, the first North African Association in the field of Trauma.

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