Water & Salt

Lena Khalaf Tuffaha

• Publisher: Red Hen Press
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781597095945
• Topic: Letteratura
• Subtopic: Poesia mediorientale

Lena Khalaf Tuffaha's debut, Water & Salt, sings in the voices of people ravaged by cycles of war and news coverage. These poems alternately rage, laugh, celebrate and grieve, singing in the voices of people ravaged by cycles of war and news coverage and inviting the reader to see the human lives lived beyond the headlines.

III

AMULETS FOR THE JOURNEY

ALMOND TRILOGY

I

On the first clear-skied morning of spring

we roll down the windows.

Our winter-tattered skin

thirsts for sunshine.

The flowering trees send slender branches toward the sky—

elegant fingers raised in thankful prayer.

We descend into the valley,

the orchard becomes more visible;

organza skirts of blush and white

clusters of young ballerinas

performing an arabesque in unison

in the breeze.

The fragrance of almond blossoms

distilled in midday sun

settles inside of us—

a heady elixir.

I am frantic for the camera,

framing a branch against

the cornflower blue of sky.

II

At the market on Saturday morning

we jostle shopping heavyweights

who arrive early for the prize of

tender-as-silk grape leaves

or

sweet lemons and succulent juice oranges.

I am distracted by a wooden crate

of green almonds.

The tear-shaped fruit,

its skin like a beloved childhood sweater,

hides a pungent white jewel inside.

One bite transports me

back to the schoolyard

reaching into the pocket of my uniform

to dip the almond into a bag of salt,

mouth puckering at the torment

of sour delight.

III

In the air-conditioned grocery store

the neon lights glare down at the English

labels on every shelf.

Rows of carefully packaged dry almonds,

looking dapper and clean shaven,

stare at me through a cellophane barrier.

They show no signs of their wild green past,

their primal blooming.

They are labeled simply:

Raw Unsalted Almonds

Organic

Product of Turkey.

NATIONAL SECURITY ADVISORY

The Guardian reports on a Palestinian businessman who obtained a unanimous fatwa to open a pornography-free online sex shop to help couples reignite their love lives. The imams who approved the venture said: “Islam supports anything that helps a married couple to connect.”

I’d like to alert the NSA agents tracking Arab men:

anonymous brown paper packages will be delivered

to married couples all over the Middle East.

Before you call in the Joint Chiefs of Staff

let me assure you,

our people are starved for love, not bombings.

Those late night calls from temporary cell phones?

They weren’t plans to attack,

just plans to rendezvous

bypassing multiple layers of family surveillance.

The breathless whispered Arabic on the line?

Code: yes, but not sacred verses.

Arab love falls under siege.

Everywhere is public space

and the public are a sober bunch.

On our romantic jihads

the path is long and arduous

and fraught with prying neighbors.

We can’t even find a place to take an evening stroll,

our war-weary streets dilapidated,

our squares overflowing with revolutionary traffic.

And even though the garden jasmine

pours forth its sultry perfume

and a million stars crowd the night skies,

everyone is indoors chain-smoking

their lives away

and watching the news.

And the news has been old

for a while now.

Sometimes,

all we have left is prayer.

So the women pray for fundamentalism—strict

adherence to the Sunna.

And the Sunna says:

“Let there first be a messenger between you.”

Words and kisses first,

O bring back the words and kisses.

WASTA

Everyone who knows someone

gets to have what they want done.

And sometimes the results are deafening.

It’s one thing to assign the drunken nephew

to a desk job at the ministry of culture.

No one looks for culture at the ministry,

so if he snoozes on the ...