See our third instalment of our top ten unmissable poems published in Poetry Wales from the last 5 years. To celebrate 55 years of publishing poetry, every Friday we’ll be releasing two poems from the list, with our final post including a downloadable PDF edition of the poems. The ten poems in this short collection were selected by Nia Davies, editor of Poetry Wales (2014-19). Our top 5 poems are included for free with our Summer 2019 issue.
no. 6
Fairouz and French Toast
by Hanan Issa
You always write my name in barbecue sauce on the plate
And now I can’t hear a Fairouz song without seeing
your beautiful back flipping egg-soaked bread, pouring my coffee.
She’s singing about Beirut: She tastes like fire and smoke.
I chew the warm soggy bread, the salty toast and sweet sauce.
You hum along with her: You are mine, you are mine.
The coffee tastes strong, a bit ashy. I picture the fire
and smoke of all the places where they love Fairouz.
‘Another piece?’ You take my plate and replenish my name.
The coffee leaves debris on my tongue. I want to hold it all –
the breakfast, the music, your back. Even the coffee.
Please, don’t stop humming: You are mine, you are mine.
Hanan Issa is a mixed-race poet from Wales. She has been featured on both ITV Wales and BBC Radio Wales and worked in partnership with National Museum Wales, Artes Mundi, Swansea Fringe, and Seren. Her work has been published in Banat Collective, Sukoon mag, Lumin, Poetry Wales, sister-hood magazine and MuslimGirl.com., and by Hedgehog Press and Parthian. Her winning monologue was featured at Bush Theatre’s Hijabi Monologues. She is the co-founder of Cardiff’s first BAME open mic series ‘Where I’m Coming From’. Her debut poetry pamphlet My Body Can House Two Hearts will be published by BurningEye Books in October 2019. Her poem ‘Fairouz and French Toast’ appeared in Poetry Wales Volume 54 Number 3.
no. 5
When I Was Still a Poet
by Tishani Doshi
When I was still a poet
I used to dream of rivers.
Flowers had names and
purpose. Small birds
the shape of scars
made nests in braziers
of sky. Now that I
have given up,
afternoons dry
as raisin skins scrub
by. Thieves approach.
Dogs bark. Love springs
from dirt like carrots.