#ruth awad

[geryone]

“The Sleepwalker” by Ruth Awad from We Call to the Eye & the Night: Love Poems by Writers of Arab Heritage

#quotes #poetry #quote #poem #ruth awad #id in alt text

[firstfullmoon]

Ruth Awad, “All the Oranges of Tripoli”

#it was like you could smell sunlight / it was unlike anything I’m telling you anything #w #poetry #ruth awad

[beguines]

Ruth Awad, "Moral Inventory"

#ruth awad #poetry

[lillyli-74]

Each morning I wake up a little crueler. Each morning my heart is a vulture beating its wings for scraps.

~Ruth Awad

#ruth awad

[fairerhousethanprose]

The Sarah Poems

We give each other a year to find reasons to live, but it’s not even day one and I have a handful, more than enough for the both of us: last night the train heavy on its tracks yowled in such a discordant way you would’ve laughed your ass off, this marvel of man- made machinery, its tons of machismo, honking most undignified. Who will notice if we’re gone? How about this: my money plant actually withers when my bank account nears $0. Coincidence? I think not. What about all the dogs we could rescue and the ones we can’t if we’re not here? Think of the sweet mutts who took a shovel to the head and still survived. Who will love them like you will love them? And you haven’t seen the curiosity of hens, how they bawk and preen and peck and bully, the small miracle that is an egg every morning, still warm. Today the nesting box latch broke and the hens got loose. There’s nothing like the bliss of a silly bird who thinks she’s outfoxed her keeper, puffed there on the maple stump, grooming her wings, her triumphant saddles. The birds escape more than I care to admit, and one day I’m sure I’ll find them gone, like when Dorothea flew over my head and out into the street and I ran like I hadn’t since middle school gym class, my lungs barely burning for the adrenaline, me yelling after this chicken in front of God and my neighbors in a city that hasn’t even roused yet, me versus the hen who can’t be reasoned with: But the stray cats will eat you! The hawks will too! You’re everyone’s food! Sarah, maybe we should be like the hen who thought I might eat her but was tired from the chase and scared of what’s next, who chose instead to trust the arms around her would carry her back home, who laid her head on my wrist, whose heartbeat begged my hand for mercy. Have mercy on me, I don’t want to live in a world without you.

#ruth awad #the sarah poems #poetry #poem #love #depression #tw: mental health #tw: ideation #sisters #siblings

[megofwands]

[Words by Ruth Awad]

“I'll wear your scent like an animal

carries its young, each gentle fang

the last place that mourned you.”

#mm #my edit #tw snakes #lilith #ragecore #oddcore #weirdcore #trauma vent #vent art #ruth awad

[illnessanxietydisorder]

My Hair Burned Like Berenice, Ruth Awad

#poetry #words #ruth awad #poem #rain #🌧️ #art

[embeccy]

"My god, will I ever not be surprised by what I can survive?"

- Ruth Awad

#foryou #tumblrpost #source: tumblr #quotes #literature #quoteoftheday #poems and poetry #poetry #life quotes #beautiful quote #poetic #poem #writers and poets #ruth awad #writing #feelings #sad thoughts #late night thoughts

[seaanimalonland]

Reasons to live | Ruth Awad

Because if you can survive the violet night, you can survive

the next, and the fig tree will ache with sweetness for you in sunlight that arrives

first at your window, quietly pawing even when you can’t stand it,

and you’ll heavy the whining floorboards of the house you filled with animals

as hurt and lost as you, and the bearded irises will form fully in their roots, their golden manes

swaying with the want of spring— live, live, live, live!—

one day you’ll put your hands in the earth and understand an afterlife isn’t promised,

but the spray of scorpion grass keeps growing, and the dogs will sing their whole bodies

in praise of you, and the redbuds will lay down their pink crowns, and the rivers

will set their stones and ribbons at your door if only

you’ll let the world soften you with its touching.

#poetry #Ruth Awad

[breakerofcurses]

#words #poetry #ruth awad #let me be a lamb in a world that wants my lion #z

[solvaaya]

The Years of Water & Light by Ruth Awad. Text ID under cut.

[Text ID: In the rowboat I tied her shoes. And the river cussed and spat.

Our feet swelled and our bellies begged. The end is never how you expect.

This is where I lose her: at the shoreline, in sweet water.]

#literature #poetry #poems #quotes #desi poetry #desi poets #indian poets #indian poetry #lebanese poetry #lebanese poet #ruth awad

[geryone]

“The one where I beg” by Ruth Awad from We Call to the Eye & the Night: Love Poems by Writers of Arab Heritage

#quotes #poetry #quote #poem #ruth awad #id in alt text

[largethingslargerthings]

MEDITATIVE WEEK OF POETRY: RUTH AWAD

About eight ounces, the weight of the human heart, and for all its galloping my heart is neither the horse nor the chariot pulling me through the dead Capricorn winter, all tooth and nail, past the stripping birches in the failing light, past the crying cockerels and empty-bellied nests, until it’s me and the bleating wind and the wilting scarlet runners – in the summer you’ll tell me the aorta is the size of a garden hose, your aneurysm the size of a fig. The future is a season I can’t imagine.

#ruth awad #the chariot #mwp #the adroit journal #meditative week of poetry

[violettesiren]

Because if you can survive the violet night, you can survive

the next, and the fig tree will ache with sweetness for you in sunlight that arrives

first at your window, quietly pawing even when you can’t stand it,

and you’ll heavy the whining floorboards of the house you filled with animals

as hurt and lost as you, and the bearded irises will form fully in their roots, their golden manes

swaying with the want of spring— live, live, live, live!—

one day you’ll put your hands in the earth and understand an afterlife isn’t promised,

but the spray of scorpion grass keeps growing, and the dogs will sing their whole bodies

in praise of you, and the redbuds will lay down their pink crowns, and the rivers

will set their stones and ribbons at your door if only

you’ll let the world soften you with its touching.

Reasons to Live by Ruth Awad

#ruth awad

[galechives]

[text ID under the cut]

My Hair Burned Like Berenice 

By Ruth Award

And after nailed upon the night Berenice’s burning hair. —W.B. Yeats, “Her Dream”

Days of rain. The drey outside my window would keel

and the wind would plunder. My heart was valent

with possibility: I could be anyone now, half woman,

half asterism. Fragmental as a new year. Patron saint

of the rutilant and cindering. I could rove incognito

to places pinned in office calendars. Too long I’d

mothered myself with the admiration of onlookers.

I was grateful to be alone in my abstraction. To be both

ignored and abraded by a coarse sky. I did not offer up

parts of me like kindling. I will not embellish a single

hemisphere. The ground bulges with a wet sound.

It is glutted with what was given. I do the wolfish work

of god and make myself again. Ripen like lichen on

the pavement. Like rain carrying the memory of lightning.

#ruth awad #poetry

[thelonelybrilliance]

#poetry #ruth awad