mohja

The Marvelous Women
by Mohja Kahf

All women speak two languages:
the language of men
and the language of silent suffering.
Some women speak a third,
the language of queens.
They are marvelous
and they are my friends.

My friends give me poetry.
If it were not for them
I’d be a seamstress out of work.
They send me their dresses
and I sew together poems,
enormous sails for ocean journeys.

My marvelous friends, these women
who are elegant and fix engines,
who teach gynecology and literacy,
and work in jails and sing and sculpt
and paint the ninety-nine names,
who keep each other’s secrets
and pass on each other’s spirits
like small packets of leavening,

it is from you I fashion poetry.
I scoop up, in handfuls, glittering
sequins that fall from your bodies
as you fall in love, marry, divorce,
get custody, get cats, enter
supreme courts of justice,
argue with God.

You rescuers on galloping steeds
of the weak and the wounded–
Creatures of beauty and passion,
powerful workers in love–
you are the poems.
I am only your stenographer.
I am the hungry transcriber
of the conjuring recipes you hoard
in the chests of your great-grandmothers.

My marvelous friends–the women
of brilliance in my life,
who levitate my daughters,
you are a coat of many colors
in silk tie-dye so gossamer
it can be crumpled in one hand.
You houris, you mermaids, swimmers
in dangerous waters, defiers of sharks–

My marvelous friends,
thirsty Hagars and laughing Sarahs,
you eloquent radio Aishas,
Marys drinking the secret
milkshakes of heaven,
slinky Zuleikas of desire
, gay Walladas, Harriets
parting the sea, Esthers in the palace,
Penelopes of patient scheming,

you are the last hope of the shrinking women.
You are the last hand to the fallen knights
You are the only epics left in the world

Come with me, come with poetry
Jump on this wild chariot, hurry–

My arrogance knows no bounds
And I will make no peace today
And you shall be so lucky
To find a woman like me

Today neither will the East claim me
nor the West admit me
Today my belly is a well
wherein serpents are coiled
ready to poison the world,
and you should be so lucky.

All I have is my arrogamce
I will teach it to lean back
and smoke a cigarette in your faces,
and you should be so lucky.

No I will make no peace
even though my hands are empty
I will talk as big as I please
I will be all or nothing
And I will jump before the heavy trucks
And I will saw off my leg at the thigh
before I bend one womanly knee.

I am poison
And you will drink me
And you should be so lucky.

—  Mohja Kahf, “Ishtar Awakens in Chicago”

Son iki ayda boşaltıp kolilediğim masaüstü kitaplığıma yeni gelenler. Bir kısmı tembellikten dolayı yeniden gösterim oldu ama olsun.

Sağ baştan say;

1- Kierkegaard / Alastair Hannay / İş Bankası Yayınları / Ekim 2013
2- Malcolm X Arayışlarla Dolu Bir Hayat / Manning Marable/ İthaki Yayınları / 2014
3- Haneke Haneke'yi Anlatıyor / Michel Cieutat - Philippe Rouyer / Everest Yayınları / Mayıs 2014
4- ABD Tarihi /Allain Nevins - Henry Steele Commager / çev. Halil İnalcık / Doğu Batı Yayınları / 1. Baskı Mart 2005 / 4. Baskı Kasım 2011
5- Hareket Halindeki Bir Trende Tarafsız Olamazsınız / Howard Zinn / Everest Yayınları / Şubat 2013
6- Akıl Ve Erdem Türkiye'nin Toplumsal Muhayyilesi / İbrahim Kalın / Küre Yayınları / Kasım 2013
7- Filistin Uğruna 1948'in Tarihini Yeniden Yazmak / Eugene L. Rogan - Avi Shhlaim / Küre Yayınları / 2012
8- Batı Edebiyatında Müslüman Kadın İmajı / Mohja Kahf / Küre Yayınları / Ocak 2006
9- Kadın, İslam Ve Sinema / Gönül Dönmez-Colin / Agora Kitaplığı / Şubat 2006
10- Doğu Batı Arasında İslam / Aliya Izetbegovic / Yarın Yayınları / Mayıs 2011 / 4. Baskı 2012
11- İslami Yeniden Doğuşun Sorunları / Aliya Izetbegovic / Fide Yayınları /Ağustos 2007 / 3. Baskı Mart 2010
12- İslam Deklarasyonu / Aliya Izetbegovic / Fide Yayınları / Ağustos 2007 / 4. Baskı Nisan 2010 
13 - Aforizmalar / Soren Kierkegaard / Pinhan Yayıncılık / Eylül 2013
14- İsa Hanginiz? / Selahattin Yusuf / Turkuaz Kitap / Haziran 2012
15- İslam'ın Aynası Camiler / Roger Garaudy / Türk Edebiyatı Vakfı Yayınları / 2013
16 - Başka Göklerin Altında / Selahattin Yusuf / Profil Yayınları / Ağustos 2013
17- İsyan Ahlâkı / Nurettin Topçu / Dergâh Yayınları / Ocak 1995 / 11. Baskı Nisan 2014
18- Vatan Yahut İnternet / Mustafa Kutlu / Dergâh Yayınları / Haziran 2014
19- Aşk ve Arkadaşlık / Jane Austen / Alakarga Yayıncılık / Nisan 2014
20- Sinematograf Üzerine Notlar / Robert Bresson / Küre Yayınları / Ağustos 2012
21- Edebiyat Ortamı Şiir Yıllığı 2004 / Haz. Mustafa Aydoğan Salih Tokgözoğlu -Rukiye Aydın / Edebiyat Ortamı Yayınevi / Şubat 2014

Niye etiketlemeye başladıysam?

Sağ taraf kardeşimin. Bana yasak.

IT’S OFFICIALLY FRESH FRIDAY!!  i guess i’m the one who’s kicking this off, huh…

Angela, you were my partner, i hope you enjoy!  ♥  i know you like Red and Green quite a bit, heehee–which turned out to be appropriately in the holiday spirit, at least color scheme-wise!  

and once again, a super huge thank you to Suppi and Rachael for putting this together for the second year in a row, taking it upon themselves to organize a big endeavor like this and just being lovely friends in general, mwah~

The Marvelous Women
By Mohja Kahf

All women speak two languages:
the language of men
and the language of silent suffering.
Some women speak a third,
the language of queens.
They are marvelous
and they are my friends.

My friends give me poetry.
If it were not for them
I’d be a seamstress out of work.
They send me their dresses
and I sew together poems,
enormous sails for ocean journeys.

My marvelous friends, these women
who are elegant and fix engines,
who teach gynecology and literacy,
and work in jails and sing and sculpt
and paint the ninety-nine names,
who keep each other’s secrets
and pass on each other’s spirits
like small packets of leavening,

it is from you I fashion poetry.
I scoop up, in handfuls, glittering
sequins that fall from your bodies
as you fall in love, marry, divorce,
get custody, get cats, enter
supreme courts of justice,
argue with God.

You rescuers on galloping steeds
of the weak and the wounded–
Creatures of beauty and passion,
powerful workers in love–
you are the poems.
I am only your stenographer.
I am the hungry transcriber
of the conjuring recipes you hoard
in the chests of your great-grandmothers.

My marvelous friends–the women
of brilliance in my life,
who levitate my daughters,
you are a coat of many colors
in silk tie-dye so gossamer
it can be crumpled in one hand.
You houris, you mermaids, swimmers
in dangerous waters, defiers of sharks–

My marvelous friends,
thirsty Hagars and laughing Sarahs,
you eloquent radio Aishas,
Marys drinking the secret
milkshakes of heaven,
slinky Zuleikas of desire,
gay Walladas, Harriets
parting the sea, Esthers in the palace,
Penelopes of patient scheming,

you are the last hope of the shrinking women.
You are the last hand to the fallen knights
You are the only epics left in the world

Come with me, come with poetry
Jump on this wild chariot, hurry–