Borders
“This is not a suitcase or a fleeing day. This is not Arabic jazz or a city of lights.”
A poem against borders, by Nathalie Handal.
“This is not a suitcase or a fleeing day. This is not Arabic jazz or a city of lights.”
A poem against borders, by Nathalie Handal.
“: Who wants most when the wave is weary?/ : Who’s marred most when the map is missing?”
A poem against borders, by Nathalie Handal.
“Didn’t you know/ I was afraid to count the music/ on your side of midnight…”
A poem against borders, by Nathalie Handal.
The Missing Slate’s six nominations for the 2017 Pushcart Prizes.
Read More“It’s important our works are read beyond the wreckages of where we come from…”
Nathalie Handal, The Missing Slate’s Poet of the Month, talks to Pratyusha Prakash.
“there are ten moons in this room,/ a thousand miles in this corridor/ but not a single whisper inside us…”
Poem of the Week (October 26), by Nathalie Handal.
A photo essay by Nathalie Handal, exploring the beauty of Kabul.
Read More“there is only absence falling into absence/ and there’s also a high window/ and there is always evening prayer…” Weekend poem, by Nathalie Handal.
Read More“The truth is you are part of the same tribe/But no one speaks about that//The reason is it’s easier to be a threat/How else can they justify the killing.” Poem of the Week (July 20), by Nathalie Handal.
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