Here are stoves uttering trilling cries of joy, their tongues orange, their clothes henna. Here are chumps hissing، lulling, bowing and crying with hot tears; We’ve got a newborn, his hair made of winds and tempests, his hat a cloud, his eyes two brooks, his eyebrows two rainbows, and his face covered with sweat drops of ancient gods.
I am 58 years old, from eastern Galilee, Israel (Palestine). I studied English literature, psychology and Law at the Hebrew university (Jerusalem). In the last three years, I published three books of which is dedicated to prose poetry. You are invited to visit the Facebook page Shadows of Water, where I publish my prose poems I translate to English.
Revulsion in mood of climate rosy winter is falling down crazy to expose its colors wearing a warm white gown winter arrives at all cost on head glazed silver crown every thing takes new twist valley dressed as an icy
That fierce winter night I was passing through the dense forest what a terrible night of winter it was black clouds had covered moonlight woods was plunged into complete darkness and capped by the terrible silence sometimes frightening voices of
The snow has been falling for days. It’s the holiday season. Excitement builds as you wait for the day to fade into night. It is finally here you can hardly wait… You walk outside and there is it, like walking
Night before stood sentry on ice cracked edge of North Gawber pit above Willow Bank, known site for Frogbit, Whorled WaterMillfoil waters edge, and I in the dark contemplate ice in bone. Whorled Water Millfoil survives harshest icy blast, turions,