Caroline Stockford: Manual for mourning a great poet

Hüseyin Özdemir, küçük İskender, 2006. Source: instagram.com/huseyinozdemir1

“Because life is the most tragic, most magnificent, most merciless trick death can play on us.”

küçük İskender, “Someone Call an Ambulance”

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When you first hear of his illness, you should be in the company of a genius journalist at seven at night and still at work. Upon going into the underwater world of shock, you should walk with said visiting journalist to the fountain that the ravens frequent in Vienna’s Volksgarten. Sit on a bench.  As you watch the cascades of crystal beads streaming from between stone wreathes and sculpted longing you might say,

“I can’t cry yet.”

You may regret not having published books with the great poet and letting him have his own way with the stage play you wrote as a canto of his lines.  But you didn’t finish it. Now, this is finishing it.

“When the question is asked: ‘Is there death, after life?'”

küçük İskender, “Necromantic”

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Alexander Booth: Scheggia

From “The Little Light that Escaped”

Bryan Sansivero, from “Abandoned Lives”. Source: rosajhberlandartconsultant.com

But I remember.

The scent of sun and ash, a taste of resin, blame. Summers across slanting floors and smiles like sickles for thoughts of flight. Abandoned streets and a feeling of sinking. Makeshift holes not far from the sea; closer in, the cicadas’ hum the whirl straight up to twilight’s hem, brittle wings which brought no breeze while all the rest were busy drinking, swallowing the searing-eyed, searing-tongued prophets and seers, and jaundicing into the yellow silence of the years. The tonal monotony of the land.

Days passing, just out of the reach of the sun. Days passing, in a basement room, watching the arc of the sun through a small square of sky. Tides of no turning. Blocks of light mosaiced while the slow days tasted of mineral, copper, rust.

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Robin Moger: A New Poem by Mohab Nasr

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René Magritte, The Lovers. Paris, 1928. Source: moma.org

Life eternal might not be ours

but there’s what’s worse

that we are really forever

Music through earphones

casts no shadow

does not say to you when you must stop

nor through the earphones

signals No

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The World According to Mohammed Abouelleil: Selected Photos

ناهد نصر: عن ٩ أكتوبر أتحدث

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A, Abbas, Saint Paul Monastery, Egypt, 1997. Source: magnumphotos.com

ليست شهادة بقدر ما هى استشهاد بجريمة يكرم مرتكبيها الآن، ويتم تجاهلها وتشويه ضحاياها عن عمد وعن إثم وعن فجور، جريمة لطخت ثوب “أكتوبر” أهدي ذكراها لشهداء أكتوبر 1973 لعلهم يربتون على أرواح إخوانهم شهداء أكتوبر 2011 برفق.
لا يمكنني الآن تحديد الوقت بدقة، لكنه مساء 9 أكتوبر 2011، بعد غروب الشمس بقليل.. أنا هنا الآن في الدور الحادي عشر، المبنى رقم 1121 كورنيش النيل، حيث جدران الاستوديوهات ألواح ضخمة من الزجاج تطل على موقع الأحداث من كل زاوية، محيط ماسبيرو من الواجهة وفى الخلفية، كل المواقع المحيطة بالمبنى مسرح للأحداث ـ بعد قليل ستكون كل المواقع الموجودة داخل المبنى مسرحاً للأحداث بداية من البوابة الرئيسية مروراً بالأحد عشر طابقاً، واحداً تلو الآخر، وحتى باب الحمام، أقصى نقطة في صالة المونتاج بالطابق الحادي عشرـ

استمر في القراءة

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