Dark Art - Blog Posts

I’m not a fire cracker, I'm a bomb. I don’t disappear when I explode, I blow up and kill everyone.

🖼️:Aron Wiesenfeld

تتلاشى الاكتاف من حولك تدريجيا كلما ازدادت حاجتك للاستناد

The shoulders around you gradually disappear as your need for support increases

Desteğe olan ihtiyacınız arttıkça etrafınızdaki omuzlar yavaş yavaş kaybolur

Amores Perros (2000)

Write down: I am an Arab, A name without a title, Patient in a country where everything Lives on flared-up anger. My roots… Took firm hold before the birth of time, Before the beginning of the ages, Before the cypress and olives, Before the growth of pastures. My father… of the people of the plough, Not of noble masters. My grandfather, a peasant Of no prominent lineage, Taught me pride of self before reading of books. My house is a watchman’s hut Of sticks and reed. Does my status satisfy you? I am a name without a title.

Write down: I am an Arab Robbed of my ancestors’ vineyards And of the land cultivated By me and all my children. Nothing is left for us and my grandchildren Except these rocks… Will your government take them too, as reported? Therefore, Write at the top of page one: I do not hate people, I do not assault anyone, But … if I get hungry, I eat the flesh of my usurper. Beware … beware … of my hunger, And of my anger.

-Mahmoud Darwish

In order for me to write poetry that isn’t political I must listen to the birds And in order to hear the birds The warplanes must be silent - Marwan Makhoul

🎨 : Nuri Lyem

لكي أكتب شعراً غير سياسي يجب أن أصغي الى العصافير ولكي أسمع العصافير يجب أن تصمت الطائرات - مروان مخول

The color orange and the sunset, The rope and suicide, The glass and the wound, The ocean and drowning, Autumn and farewell, The mirror and me, The windows and staring, The hand waving from afar, The road and the sudden encounter.

Paintings by: Lili Wood

اللون البرتقالي والغروب الحبل والانتحار الزجاج والجرح المحيط والغرق الخريف والوداع المرآة و أنا النوافذ و التحديق اليد والتلويح من بعيد الطريق ولقاء الصدفة

🎨 : Miaamanman1995

Bribery

Bribery is what is given to nullify a right, or achieve a falsehood. The briber pays the bribe-taker to give him what is not his right, and it is one of the major sins and great burdens.

Dealing with bribery is a widespread form of corruption and a affliction of evil that brings many woes upon the individual and society. It corrupts religion, destroys trust, spreads betrayal, and sows malice and hatred in the hearts of people. The weak grudge against the strong, and the poor grudge against the rich, and society is divided into two warring classes. Then security and stability will disappear, fear and turmoil will come, and there will be no survival of security and livelihood in a country or nation where bribery is widespread, because the bribe-takers withhold the interests and rights of the people until they bribe them, so the wealth of the bribe-takers increases, and with it the cycle of poverty among the people increases.

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

(Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;        For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings        That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

˜ Shakespeare

عندما أصابني سوء الحظ و بدأ الناس ينظرون إلي بازدراء بكيت على نفسي بمرارة وصليت لكن السماء لم تستجب لدعائي و لم تشفق علي , لذلك فقد صببت اللعنات على حظي تمنيت لو كنت شخصاً آخر يمتلك حظاً و أملاً أكبر و يمتلك الكثير من الأصدقاء تمنيت لو كانت عندي موهبة هذا و فرصة ذاك و في أقسى ساعات كراهيتي لنفسي خطرت لي, و عندها تغير حالي كما هي حال القبرة التي تشدو في الصباح أغاني تصل إلى بوابة السماء- لأن التفكير بك يجعلني غنياً جداً إلى درجة أنني أرفض أن أتبادل الأدوار حتى مع الملوك

-شيكسبير

“And if happiness visits you again, do not remember its previous betrayal..Let that happiness in, and burst!”

-Mahmoud Darwish

Painting by : Jana Brike

بيني وبينك

ليالٍ صيفية و لحن اهديته لك بالخفاء وديوانٌ من حروف غزلية وقهوة المساء

بيني وبينك شوارع لا تنتهي وطرق مليئة بالغرباء

بيني وبينك همس واطياف وقصص لا تحكى بالكلام

بيني و بينك نجوم الليل و مطر الشتاء و رياح الخريف و زهور الربيع

بيني و بينك اشتياق نيسان و احباء ديسمبر و سكارى يناير

بيني وبينك اسهم عشاق سامة

بيني وبينك لا شئ وكل شئ في آن واحد

Between you and me

Between you and me there are summer nights, a melody that I secretly dedicate to you, a series of flirtatious poems and the darkness of the night. Between you and me there are endless streets and roads full of strangers Between you and me there are night stars, winter storms, autumn winds, and spring flowers Between you and me there is the nostalgia of September, The crushes of December and The January drunkards. There are whispers and shadows between us And stories that can't be told with words

Between you and me, are the poisoned arrows of lovers.

A crusade that passed through me

While I was in the capital of gloom, a crusade passed by in the form of a woman, and the heart became under mandate, unable to respond against the colonial power. A mixture of sweetness and torment. She has the face of an angel and the stab of a warrior who opens the bolts of consciousness. She opens a door, enters the chest and struts in its left side, and when the full moon appears from between the clouds, she looks up as if she were looking at a mirror. She took from the gazelle, impudence and suspicion, and from the Arabian horses, stubbornness and strut. And now after her invasion, I suffer from love, alienation, and ill fortune. I am the hawk I am the knight I am the poet And she is my punishment.

By : Jamal Bander

"You should be more careful"

More careful? Do you know what’s the big difference between you and I, dear brother? I have no fear. and you’re consumed by it. Why don't you have a little chat with god? Ask him why he turned you into a sheep and me into a wolf.

“goodbye”

You called, you’re on the train, on Sunday, I have just taken a shower and await you. Clouds are slipping in off the ocean, but the room is gently lit by the green shirt you gave me. I have been practicing a new way to say hello and it is fantastic. You were so sad: you said “goodbye.” All the shops were closed but the sky was high and blue. I tried to walk it off but I must have walked in the wrong direction.

By : Mathew Roher

First isolated moments

“Nothing is ever as beautiful as the first isolated moments with someone who might be able to love you — with someone you yourself might be able to love. There is nothing as silent as these minutes, nothing so saturated with sweet anticipation. It is for these few minutes that we love, not for the many that follow. Never again, they realize, would anything so beautiful ever happen to them. They might be happier, more impassioned, too, and infinitely satiated with their own bodies and with each other’s. But never again would it be so beautiful.”

Stig Dagerman, A Moth to a Flame (Burnt Child)

In my eyes, you seemed to lack a lot. you lacked maturity, manners, and thought. You also lacked worries, gloominess, concerns, or reasons to cry. So whenever I looked at you… I was annoyed.

If a storm hits me

If a storm hits me and the winds shake me, the voice of hope in me says: that the storms will calm down, If a lightning bolt strikes me and does not leave me a wing, the voice of hope in me says: that I fly without range, If my branches wither and thirst from their longing for water, the voice of hope in me says : that the sky is cloudy and dew. And if I were to be imprisoned for twenty years, the voice of hope in me says: that I have a morning and a promise. Even if they cut off my head while it's at the tip of spears, the voice of hope in me says: that life has just begun. But if a friend betrays me and I am alone and he leaves, the voice of hope in me says : I am done…this was my last call.

Poem by : Muhathil Alsqor

Do you think when you burnt me

then danced like a devil upon my dead body and left me for dust storms to bury me; Do you think you obliterated my identity? or that you've erased my history and beliefs! In vain you try…No Death There is for a rebel I’m like The Resurrection; one day I shall be, Like Jesus I'm coming back with strength, from every storm I shall gather my parts, I'll come as the oldest rebellious lover, I'll come with the mightiest of the greatest revolutions, A man from the Ditch I am, I must return !

Poem by : Muhathil Alsqor

When Milena confessed to Kafka and said to him, “I love you,” Kafka then said: "She said 'I love you,' so I went out into the street, because the sky in my room was not enough for me to fly."

🎨 R e a

“ Lions are the prey of deer “

“…And there are Arab women on the trip They deceive the hearts of the alert They misled me, so I followed the devil of desire Women are the traps of Satan I didn't know before the dawn broke Lions are the prey of deer”

By: Mahmoud Sami Al-Baroudi

September

To sit by candlelight, To buy a new book, To start over, to go for a walk, to fall in love, to meet.. the most beautiful month.

🖊️ Esran Ersan

🎨 Muraoka Kimio

Love is an adventure, either you return from it regretful, repentant, or enamoured.

How did you come back?

The texture of your hands is still stuck between my palms, how does one remove the traces of love from one's senses?

Art by Rea

Wondering who you are?

You’re the purple scar that appears for no reason,

The images that give rise to nostalgia without features,

You are the ecstasy that did not complete,

A torment that lasted for an entire lifetime.

You...

You're like a trip I’ve been saving for months,

and when it was time to go,

I felt a desire not to leave.