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  November 2017
volume 14 number 2
-table of contents-
 
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  Gary Beck
  Jack G. Bowman
  Sir Mark Bruback
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  Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
  Darren C Demaree
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  Raymond Fenech
  Gerda Govine Ituarte
  Grant Guy
  Hedy Habra
  Danielle Harper
  JD Hart
  Tom Irish
  Kait Jensen
  Michael Lee Johnson
  Elisabeth Khan
  Ron Lucas
  Suzanne O'Connell
  Scott Thomas Outlar
  E. Martin Pedersen
  John D Robinson
  Miriam Sagan
  Rishan Singh
  Spencer Smith
  Ann Christine Tabaka
  Viola Weinberg
  Cade Williams
  Terry Wolverton
  Bill Yarrow
 
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Hedy Habra
November 2017
   

 

bio


photo by mauricio alejandro ramos

    Hedy Habra has authored two poetry collections, Under Brushstrokes, finalist for the USA Best Book Award and the International Book Award, and Tea in Heliopolis, winner of the USA Best Book Award and finalist for the International Book Award. Her story collection, Flying Carpets, won the Arab American National Book Awards Honorable Mention and was finalist for the Eric Hoffer Award. A recipient of the Nazim Hikmet Poetry Awards, she was a 2015 five-time nominee for a Pushcart and Best of the Net. Her work appears in Cimarron Review, The Bitter Oleander, Blue Fifth Review, Cider Press Review, Drunken Boat, Fifth Wednesday Journal, Gargoyle, Nimrod, Poet Lore, World Literature Today and Verse Daily. Her website is
Hedy Habra

   

 

Or Why Does She Paint a Virtual Space For Silent Words?

Sometimes she slips into folds of lavender hues, curls into daydreams; her open palm holds ashes of words unsaid, their symphony in gray minor fades away with every brushstroke dipped in desert sand, awakening dunes pregnant with gypsum roses now piled up on rice paper steeped with sunshine to color her ochre song. Sepias warm her heart as she carefully adds a drop of dew to fill its invisible holes, soften the contours of rebellious shapes and desires.

Oblivious of the passing of time, she enters a virtual space filled with silent words, watches the reflection of shadows dance over the walls of a resounding cavern while words break into syllables, phonemes morph into motes floating in the void, yes, her brush acquiesces, moving faster, yes, here lies the source of forgotten signs melting into shades of colors speaking only to her as she witnesses the birth of a new language.

(previously published in Knot Magazine copyright 2015)

copyright 2017 Hedy Habra