I acquire a little comfort from a pipette. Kitchen sink, your shiny buttercup offsets me as the darkness of my mind sips it. My larynx will be choral with rosettes. Press the…
published by the fortnightly review
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“Zainab Ismail’s lush and startling debut explores her tricultural heritage, what she dubs ‘the taproot tapestry’ that ‘wove the heavens in her mouth.’ She may not be able to speak her home in Gujarati harmonies or Arabic auxiliaries, but she is firmly planted in poetry’s formal earth.” Cherry Smyth
“Reading the unghosting of a new poetic tongue is an ecstatic experience! ‘Lotuses of language’ do ‘float along’ within this collection and I defy anyone not to be moved by their intricacy and beauty.” Emily Critchley
“Ecstatic Motion is both endearing and emotive, captured vividly in sparkling, intricate language as rich and captivating as Islamic art.” Timothy Arden, The London Economic
I tried to un-ghost the wilting tongue, the half-lit voice of my elders, vying for fluorescence. It blossomed elsewhere but I was young. Lotuses of language floated along…
published by the fortnightly review
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Once I penned an ode for you it filled my gaps and overlapped hollow divergent streets Then I tore you out akin to scar tissue on my left arm [couldn’t extinguish the oven…
published by streetcake
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I remember how I couldn’t hustle Gujarati harmonies from their natural place, heard from her lips, deep in the dark — I didn’t understand. I remember how her jet-black…
published by tears in the fence
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At Abacus Park, I sit and count after dusk. On smooth plastic beads, our lives are mapped out after dusk. I number the hours. Water unspools infinitely in the pool until…
published by skin deep
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I stut-ter even at the genesis of it, the littlest summit. Three arabesques dotted inkjets on my desk — ka ta ba which should propel intricate new words down my ruled…
featured in wretched strangers, published by boiler house press
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I am natural as a veined engraving on a London leaf. You tell me the trees emboss my belonging — accept the fullest breaths, longest breaths, longing and loss purified…
featured in wretched strangers, published by boiler house press
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Lockdown is darkening but I feel like dancing. I teach my hands cat-like reflexes, dancing, each clockwise and anti-clockwise motion. Blue hues twist against red, double helix…
featured in new rules
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