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"Red Madness of ‘21" by Aisha Al-Tarawneh


I got high on Russian poetry and terror

On the soft flesh of my bedroom carpet,

Red in the way it looked crimson through

Hazed eyes, psychotic musings taste of

Isaac Asimov and Braubaker’s Daredevil,

Iron pepper on my tongue, poppy blossoms

And sprawling rose bedsheets, red petals 

Blooming against dark backdrops.


I hadn’t yet tasted certainty, I know now,

Yet I thought I had; fevered dreams and

A low whine in my throat, nestling by 

The fraying edges of a sweeping gale–

There wasn’t much in terms of sense

And red LED lights danced in sorrowful

Pity above my head. 


Juggle till your hands bleed, you have

Nobody to perform for. Still, you curtsey,

Dress catching in the thorns of a growing

Vine, suffocating, lifegiving, a breath of

Fresh air in the face of a slipping mind,

Juggle, juggle, and blood on fingertips 

Tastes sweetly speckled, coppery.


Sometimes I think that rabid desperation

Still lives in me. I drink adrenaline like

It is a drug; Monster drinks and the pound

Of hearts in chests taste of relieved shivers

Down a spine– I live in illusion, in a fragile

Image of perfection, cured, healed, no longer

Dancing gentle ballet with sharp jaggedness–

Summer of ‘21; gentle nostalgia for red madness.




Aisha Al-Tarawneh, 20, is an aspiring psychologist from Denmark and Jordan who enjoys writing in her free time. Her favourite poetic movements include Soviet futurism, and her favourite poets include Vladimir Mayakovsky. When she is not writing, you can either find her reading, kickboxing, practicing archery or watching her favourite hockey players during hockey season.

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