Fatima Al Matar فاطمة المطر

He invites her to coffee all of his senses speak except his lips all of his senses touch except his hands under his chin his coffee simmers...

Why does grass submit? rain falls, it absorbs sun induces, it grows wind blows, it kneels under a layer of snow, it sits cold and oppressed...

In this unforgiving mirror I sometimes find my mother’s scornful face and recall our years of war, her spiteful contempt to my resemblance ...

When they handed you to me I couldn’t reach out and hold you, I froze. A tiny bag of red skin with a bruised head from when they vacuume...

It was a cold winter morning I taught her to hold the edges of her cuffs with her tiny fingers while I screwed another woolly jumper on to ...

منذ أن أنهيت دراستي وعدت إلى الكويت بدأت البحث عن سكن لي ولإبنتي جوري، و طبعا لأنه ليس هناك غيري أنا وجوري بحثت عن شقة -   مثل ما نقول با...

I was approached by the British Council to facilitate a poetry workshop in “Misrata” Libya, see my earlier report entitled “First Day in L...