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Bab Touma & Others
Bab Touma Bab Touma: fragments of an old hymn catch in the night— the jasmine branches are dried…
On Sleeplessness and Pre-Dawn Ecstasies
In the liminal hours,when the stars have dulled or disappeared,the sky with its arms of milky whitereaches for…
Bloody Rozana
for Amal Kaawash ‘Everyone is with their beloved and my beloved has gone. Oh lord, may the breeze…
My Mother Talks to the Moon
The moon emerges, a sickle, wisp of an arc,the true beginningof a month. We believe thisand the eyes will…
Dreaming to You
I was not wearing a white robe, but bright orange.Purple irises grew from my belly, reaching forfaraway light.…
When All Other Lights Go Out:
Wagner, Howard Shore, and the Long Road Home When I was a little boy, sitting alone in the…
Clover
In an old room, on a clean wooden floor, I was playing with my doll Susie, waiting for…
Refracted Selves: Mirrors in Literature, Culture, and the Soul
The Mirror as Threshold When I was four years old I stood in front of a…
Making the Miraculous Visible:
Shirin Abedinirad on Mirrors, Landscape, and the Art of Presence For Rowayat’s fourteenth issue, we could imagine no…
Blood, Death and Hope
In Fiqh, Islamic jurisprudence, menopausal women are literally women who have reached the age of “despair.”…
When We Meet & occupier artclass
When We Meet (Ghazal) Which one of us will have crossed the sea when we meet?Will you recognize…
A Distant Grandmother Weeps in the Dark
Sometimes your day begins at three in the morning, to fragments of a dream whose details you can…
Issue 14: Mirrors
We are open for Submissions for Issue #14: Mirrors April 1st to May 15th 2026 Click here to…
Eleven Stars over Andalusia
We have on this earth what makes life worth living. Where should we go after the last frontiers?…
WHALE SONG OVER GAZA CITY: A CONVERSATION WITH ROZY
1. Origins This is Rozy’s story. It’s a story about growing up in Gaza City, about holding…
Echoes Beneath the Water
The scent of chlorine still clings to me as I cross the threshold of my coach’s office, that…
Rowayat 2025 Poetry Contest Shortlist
Our Judge, Sara ElKamel’s Comments on the Finalist: Paul Potts — “i have” I was blown away by…
On Walpole Island
Live in a windowless room long enoughand you will forget how to leave.Life will be splashed out on…
Circle of the Dead
God favors dead women—wives, lovers, concubines, slaves. Bodies, bird-light, a feather or two on the ground.My grandmothers, aunts,…
Issue 13: Forged Kinship
“…kinship is not rooted in the abstract, but in concrete realities—when naming, speaking, and surviving are rights denied…
Cairo: The Letters, Delivered
“These letters in their fictional form are not delivered, but as a book, they are delivered. So as…
Refugee Is Not My Name
The “eco”-blockade and military assault ethnically cleansed Karabakh Have you ever dreamt of becoming a refugee or a…
Make Your Life Count:
Ani Zonneveld’s Memoir is a Rallying Cry for Justice, Joy, and Radical Faith “I follow the Way of…
On the Meaning of Watermelons:
An Exploration of Imagery in Contemporary Palestine In Palestine, the visual realm is…
elephant graveyard
I. elephants are matriarchal creatures traveling in herds of just women. boys leavingwhen they become men, returning years…
What the Road Promised & Others
What the Road Promised Leave.Listen to what the road says,it screeches the name of my people,a throat of…
A Fictional State
Lush plains and endless mountains. I am on my way back to a village left behind centuries ago.…
Zift
The first thing I noticed was that he had no thumbs. He was having trouble putting the…
Our Ladies of Perpetual Solitude
The call came before the sun. Teresa walked over to the stove clutching the old, corded phone to…
Submit to Issue 12: Echoes
We have EXTENDED! Submit now: March 7th- April 8th, 2025, April 21st, 2025. “Write what should not be…
A Room, Languages, and Possibilities: A Conversation with Sara Elkamel
I had the opportunity to interview the award-winning poet Sara Elkamel. Her poetry draws deeply from personal and…
Fleeting Memories
In this memory, I am six, sitting in my elementary school classroom. It’s Valentine’s day and I’ve…
I Carried My Father to Uruk & Others
I Carried My Father to Uruk My father taught me how dates,gathered in enough numbers,left to age and…
The Orange Orchard
The orange trees were the scent of my girlhood. I grew up in the house of loquat, mango,…
A Long Walk From Gaza: An Excerpt
Leave I A body on the cobblestones. Just lying there. I shake him gently to see if he…
A Conversation about “A Long Walk from Gaza”
CN Let’s talk first about the excerpt we have chosen for this special issue of Rowayat, “Connect and…
“All the Women in My Life,”
a conversation with Tarek El-Ariss about his memoir Water on Fire: A Memoir of War I can see…
To Tell The Truth Like Tolstoy
An aspiring writer reflects on lessons from the great Russian novelist I came to Tolstoy when…
“The Women and Memory Forum: An Intellectual Project with an Activist Agenda”
Championing Arab Women’s Voicesــــ A Conversation with Hoda Elsadda For decades, the knowledge produced by Arab women has…
Sprouting Favas in Cairo
“The fava beans have weevils,” she heard her mother telling her father in an exasperated voice. Mariam woke…
The East is not a Looking Glass
“Eye on the ball,” the revolution said, finding an invincible summer. “Protect your peace,” the mashrabiyya whispered, and…
The Mirror That Comes Back
Bahram Beyzai and the Ā’īneh of a Wounded Nation In the Persian mystical imagination, the mirror was never…
The melting pot of destruction (viii) & Others
The melting pot of destruction (viii) April 1st, 2026. Cité de Billes.Douala. Cameroon. my cellulardata room. my feed.…
From the Nile to Hólaá
Preface When I was younger and my father was still alive, I often thought that I…
Cypress Weeps & The House That Raised Us
Cypress Weeps A boy’s grieftransformed him into a cypress tree.Since then,the cypress weeps.For landscapesholding too many graves,for hills…
Deer and Starlight & Blue Mountains, Australia
Deer and Starlight at fifteen you first read a poem about Matthew Shepardyoung man brutalised by young menfor…
a river of mirrors
snow melt runs cold on the heights of the taurus mountains beyond human footfall where a tumble of…
Routine Stop
You brush against your holster in the sinewy fog draped over the town. It’s afternoon,…
On the Bus
She can feel the knotsthe odd angles, the bones,want to tell the woman to run, run, runbut deep…