Malak El Halabi

Malak Halabi

Malak El Halabi is a Lebanese published poet who writes about the Bermuda triangle of Love, Loss, and, Lust.

She has previously published two Poetry Books. Her first book (الهي الحب و عقيدتي انت)“My God is Love and my Religion is You”, written when she was 16, won the second rank in the Poetry Sales of the Beirut Arab Book Fair in 2009. Her second book (سمير) “Samir”, dedicated to the memory of her father, mainly deals with the theme of death, grief and, loss.

You can purchase her published books through the links below:
الهي الحب و عقيدتي انت (My God is Love and my Religion is You)
سمير (Samir)

You can learn more about Malak and contact her through:
Email: elhalabi.malak@gmail.com
Her Facebook page: Dreams of an Insomniac
Malak on Instagram
Malak on Facebook


Edition X

I Won't Remember You - By Malak Halabi  (Photo by John Jason).jpgPhoto credit: John Jason

I Won’t Remember You

By Malak Halabi

As I walk these dead-end streets alone
As the dogs bark and the caravan
goes on…
I won’t
remember you
And I won’t remember your Mediterranean face,
falling asleep between my arms and the arms of
dawn
And I won’t remember your black starry eyes,
gazing at me, like two suspended moons between hell
and heaven
And I won’t remember your heavenly curls
locked night after night between my sleepless fingers
As I walk these dead-end streets alone
As the dogs bark and the caravan
goes on…
I won’t
remember you
And I won’t remember your hands molding my nights
like the sounds of chirping birds contour the face of
morning
And I won’t remember your touch
And I wont’ remember your body carved like a wound between my thighs, like an anchored ship
waiting to be forgotten
As I walk these dead-end streets
alone, my dear,
the dogs will bark but the caravan,
the caravan won’t be moving.


Edition II

In The Face - by Malak El Halabi (Photo by Odette Scapin)Photo credit: Odette Scapin

In The Face

By Malak El Halabi

I always looked Love
in the face
the way a heliophobe
stares
at the sun.
Tipping my head back
and barely looking.
Stealing the light from between
sunburns
and always inflicting
damage to whoever was holding
the staring contest,
regardless of
how damn good he was.

No matter the rhythm,
No matter the melody,
the shades were always calling
my name
and I (almost) never
missed their calls.

The rain always promised
clean pages and seasonal
grass.
A road the back of my feet
can accurately measure
A path I am able to foresee
all of its potholes.

A thorn was simply a price I was
never willing
to pay for a rose…

But tonight,
in the light of this rose
between our opposing bodies
I stare…
directly
into your dark eyes,
and from the shadow of
this gaze,
a thousand suns are born.

I am looking Love
in the face
steadily.

All the sunburns in Hell can finally head my way.


Edition I

Insomnia - by Malak El Halabi (Photo by Waleed Shah)Photo credit: Waleed Shah

Insomnia

By Malak El Halabi

I call him Insomnia

His hands, larger than my immense dreams.
His hands engulfing the stars and the planets in their passage

I call him.
I call him Insomnia

His hands measuring my waist like a restless tailor,
swirling around my body like a deadly hurricane,
planting roses in my hair. His hands,
drenched in my hair, ripping rose petals.

I call him.
I call him Insomnia

His hands, waking up all the sleeping bats of my heart with a single stroke.
His hands keeping my weary eyes wide open.

I call him and will always call him Insomnia,
so that my nights and his days remain forever the two sides of an unfinished moon


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