THIS SIGH OF PARADISE

"my artwork is a celebration, of being a woman, of melanin, of multiculturalism, of life" (Anise).

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"Anise's Garden" on 18x24 watercolor paper. For prints: [email protected]

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my newest pieces. some of them

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she caves: black magic

she is thumbing sunflower seeds picking off the outer shells salting your wounds licking her fingers to seal it in honey, aloe, sage she is inviting the healing powers of nature to mend your open pieces bright pink papaya smooth and wet somehow sparkling in the moonlight she whispers to you under the white sheet resting on your eyelashes are you a victim to her magnetism like the tide of the moon she is cycling around you and you are swooning once again dark and rich avocado swollen and ripe so creamy and sweet you nourish her scooping out her brown seeds in the contours of that empty cavity where are you now gone away from your loyal servant.

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deciphering my pieces: this is how i feel

This is how I feel. The reason why I quoted The Kite Runner up by Khaled Hosseini is because it is one of my favorite books. A touching story about friendship, brotherhood, and love. "For you a thousand times over" has a lot of meaning. Not only from the relationship between the protagonist and his brother but also through other things in our lives. Papaya for me has its own special symbolism as well as beauty. This quote in this context relates to the bond and special relationship that women have with their children. I feel that languages are so important because they hold the last remnants of culture and the history  of man. When I write in Arabic I am representing the language of my ancestors, keeping them alive as well as connecting with them. This is how I feel.

[mihonestavida]

nee berry

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honey bee

You are my black bear,

pulling my honey,

robbing bees.

Craving my hexagonal

walls, I am waxy, 

fill my empty spaces.

I want to feel your 

fur against my beating wings,

flutter and quiver, 

hot air in a growl,

our rhythms in sync.

My scent on your breath,

your teeth shining,

You have come a long 

way for me, to satiate your 

needs.

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drop your seeds my sister

drop your seeds my sister

and after the rains head to

another sky

i will follow your nappy vines

tangled is the path to you

if I’m stepping on thorns

i won’t feel a thing

because i was already crying inside

it dried up and went away

a thread i cannot untie

and when the moon is high

our crimson is flowing

like the juice of acai berries

staining our thighs

we feel

the pounding of poi

like the pulsating pain

of loss

we tremble

as our bodies mourn

and punish us

for not sowing deep enough

we are like the thorny leaves

of aloe, break us off.

our strange juices leaking

to heal, to satiate.

and the scent of it all

will alert our bruised,

heavy breasts

like ripening mangoes

our skin is bright like

peanut butter, mahogany,

milky, hues of sunflowers

and when i see your thoughtful face

i will say namaste my sister

i will see that your skin

is oiled like my own

i will smell coconut

on your wooly hair

and i will embrace my kin

our hair will be heavy like

banana leaves

once again we will fall away

our oily skin too soft to stick

and i will think of you

in the cycle of the moon.

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Happy

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Melanin’s cry

Not only are hearts heavy from love,

but our minds are heavy for fear.

Compassion is lost again an unjust

and dishonorable history of lies.

Why do you ignore our cries?

Original by Anise.

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Opal II

When you look in mine i feel

all my thoughts dissipate

my eyes are connecting the dots on

the freckles of your skin

black silk laced into the perimeter of that half moon

i feel like amber is shining through your skin

my oily fingerprints all over your body

smudging you, muting you, changing you

you take the words from my mouth

the music is so much sweeter

when i think of you

i will be dropping tears because i am defeated by love

a song i didn't allow myself to sing for so long

i miss those days when i would breath in cotton

meticulously woven by someone less fortunate

but i am a pearl

somewhere far off in a place you wouldn’t understand

a place that transcends your mind’s capabilities

i feel like a flower that is being misted

in my breath i feel the heaviness of my love for you

it is pulling down on my will, pulling out the tears

i want to be grinding coffee beans

i want to hear them shatter against the blade

i want to be under cool sheets

i want to be surprised by the small acts of love

my hair is a softer grass

constantly intertwining, unconforming

Original by Anise

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Opal I

Your eyes are like slanted opals

as if from the scales of a fish

what stream are you swimming up?

I want to follow you to that green water

mossy soil and rocks on the banks

in the shade of the protruding cliff

the sound of the river lapping at the brown stone

pounding away at the red clay

i lay my belly in the swaying sediment

drifting in and out of the murky

clouds of sand and leaves

we are floating up

i grab onto your body

i promise you

i won’t let go

i promise you i will not leave you

even if all the oxygen in my lungs

runs out

even if all the aquatic creatures

eat away at my body

even if all my bones are broken

we are floating up

to lay in the pools of shade

when we float into the sun we

will feel the sun shining

on our skin

the melanin in my skin grows

when the sun is shining

on your iridescent scales

like stacks of plates

between the black mountains

there is the same shade

but it hovers high in the air

against the indigo sky

why do i run on the hot sand

when i know that it will burn

those small bushes

barely clinging to life

on the banks of the river

remind me of the shade

of the tree branches i want to

see reflected on your face

the green water sits in

the cracks of my feet

healing me

staining my wounds

i like the silence in the air

between the black mountains

i like to see your face

between my hands.

Original by Anise

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unedited: wily

be true to yo self,

cause no one else

is stringing the beads

to your life.

self-reflect,

self-protect,

express yo self,

embrace thy self.

she is running

and she is winded,

she must slow down,

her wounds are inside.

she is fighting

her natural instincts,

she is discovering

her remedy.

she is surrounded

by her dearest kin,

she is accompanied

by unfaltering love.

for skyler

original by Anise

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Unloved

If you promise to pick me All the flowers but my own favorite, 

Then all of the dandelions and orchids that look up to my face 

 Will cry yellow tears

 Kiss them softly and water them

 Even though they are beautiful I still will never be able to love them 

 That is how it is with love.

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unedited: Karma

i smell wood, pine, rosemary

water my roots and i flourish

in the back of my mind i can hear the Song of Songs

pomegranates, doves

, frankincense, herbs

Sappho is praying to Aphrodite

and i am praying to Karma

my Parents are praying to Jesus

my Sister is praying for self-awareness

i am picking at bamboo shoots

the ridges like my wet fingers

i want to be like soybeans

nestled in heat, your body on my body

my Ovaries are fluttering,

humming,

vibrating,

pulsating,

meditating

dust cocoa powder on my skin

kiss my eyes and ring the chimes

i’m feeling pain I close them tight

and i am praying to Karma.

Original by Anise

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unedited: chrysanthemum

i will be at home hanging lanterns

the air thick with smoke, the comforting

warmth of air in my lungs and sweet

like hot chocolate.

remembering all the people that cared so much

but i could not understand their love for me

the wicked pings of guilt and self hate sting me 

reprimand me, remind me, overpower me

i guess i have become accustomed to hate myself

although i had convinced myself that i would never hate anyone 

i will be at home hanging lanterns

my sepia life is sweet, never satiating, making it hunger for me

i feel it 

i feel the need to reach the end

to kill my hunger

to cry on the bathroom floor

chrysanthemums were also so special to me

because they were a special flower 

they were not loved as much as other flowers

but they are like the sound of my sister shaking old pennies.