Tala Abu Rahmeh: Do you know what getting bombed by an F16 feels like?
It sounds like the air is getting sucked from the world
and you are about to stop breathing.
The plane threads itself into the sky,
sound dipping in and out.
A small hope in a second of silence
snatched away by its roar
like a lion inching closer to its prey.
You line your shoes by the door.
You close your eyes when the bomb drops
to conjure up your grandmother’s peach tree,
and how she yelled at you for eating them
while they were still green,
the tangy flavor of unripe grapes,
your mother’s hand as it holds yours,
her finger rubbing your palm,
the smell of fresh bread on Friday morning,
your brother’s stubbornness,
how beautiful it was to fight
about small things, like how messy his room was.
Now it might be turned into rubble.
You hear the thud and know
it’s not your turn yet,
because when the bomb drops on you
you hear nothing.
Tala Abu Rahmeh is a therapist, writer and translator based in New York City. Born to a refugee father and an internally displaced mother, Tala grew up between Jordan and Palestine. You can find her writing in LA Review of Books, Enizagam, 34th Parallel, Blast Furnace, Timberline Review, Kweli, Penn Center USA, and most recently in We Call to the Eye & to the Night: Love Poems by Writers of Arab Descent (Persea Books, 2023). Tala holds an MFA in Poetry from American University and a master’s in social work from Columbia University.
from the article:
Tala Abu Rahmeh: Do you know what getting bombed by an F16 feels like?
It sounds like the air is getting sucked from the world and you are about to stop breathing. The plane threads itself into the sky, sound dipping in and out. A small hope in a second of silence snatched away by its roar like a lion inching closer to its prey. You line your shoes by the door. You close your eyes when the bomb drops to conjure up your grandmother’s peach tree, and how she yelled at you for eating them while they were still green, the tangy flavor of unripe grapes, your mother’s hand as it holds yours, her finger rubbing your palm, the smell of fresh bread on Friday morning, your brother’s stubbornness, how beautiful it was to fight about small things, like how messy his room was. Now it might be turned into rubble. You hear the thud and know it’s not your turn yet, because when the bomb drops on you you hear nothing.
Tala Abu Rahmeh is a therapist, writer and translator based in New York City. Born to a refugee father and an internally displaced mother, Tala grew up between Jordan and Palestine. You can find her writing in LA Review of Books, Enizagam, 34th Parallel, Blast Furnace, Timberline Review, Kweli, Penn Center USA, and most recently in We Call to the Eye & to the Night: Love Poems by Writers of Arab Descent (Persea Books, 2023). Tala holds an MFA in Poetry from American University and a master’s in social work from Columbia University.