Adel Awad

Adel Awad1

Born and raised in the UAE, Adel considers himself to be a nomadic free spirit surrounded by transient souls. As a man heavily engaged in the arts scene of the UAE, he can be found performing spoken-word poetry, playing keys for his band or simply admiring artwork at your local gallery.

His writings often reflect the experiences of growing up in a melting pot of cultures and a longing for the truest essence of home. He possesses a great admiration for heritage, fast cars, philosophy and is also a die-hard Cookie Monster fan!

Find out more about Adel through:
His Blog
His Instagram

Edition III

Excess Baggage - by Adel Awad (photo by Rosan Harmens)Photo credit: Rosan Harmens

Excess Baggage

By Adel Awad

If life were a rail-track, then I’m at a train station
And I sit here on a bench
One by one, I’ve seen them come and go, countless times
Nomads of a transient world
Different pages of my book
And as each train stops, they get off, weary and tired
Carrying their excess baggage
Often with scars and bruises of a journey so hard; visible in their faces

And if they choose to find me
Then I’ll pour my heart in a cup and present it
As a present for the present
Because the past may have been too harsh so I teach them to let it go
And let them know
That somebody out here cares, cares more than they can ever care
And let that be my source of pride, for they can never take that away, ever

While we sit together, exchanging our stories and adventures
Sharing our warmth, the sights of our souls
And tales of wonder, of wandering around the world
Oh, how I have traveled so much, by just sitting here at this bench

Wiser we become through trial and error
A few laughs, a few tears, a few moments worthy of reminiscence
I have witnessed them all and I must tell you
That love has no colour, language or accent
It will find its way and shine through
And in its purest form will solely intend to strengthen our spirits
And the strongest shall be those who have loved
Not once but endlessly

As the next train’s horn blares from the vicinity
We look at each other realizing that our time is over
Which may explain why I’ve become so bad at hellos and so good at goodbyes
Its time to let go once again, to forget another name
A final embrace
And they all have left, the same way, onto a different train
Back on their journey, onto a brand new page
With a lighter heart, renewed spirit and a wiser soul

And I still sit here at this bench, surrounded by the excess baggage they all have left behind.

Edition XI

lost-by-adel-awad-photo-by-jakob-owensPhoto credit: Jakob Owens


By Adel Awad

They would keep saying every time I’m leading the argument
I don’t think I can grow past 5 foot 6 even if I tried at the age of 26
but if they’ve had to scream, then one thing is for sure
I am winning.
Call it a guilty pleasure but I love that feeling of knowing that they’re wrong,
knowing that I have another opportunity for a ‘Hey, I told you so!’
As I smugly rub my facts on their faces like an unlikely messiah they would never be proud of.
“I can’t wait to get a Mustang”, I tell my brother to which he replies
“Why don’t you focus on being a better human being first?”
If burns had names, I would call that the Angelina Jolie of them all
but two things – I did get my Mustang
and I feel like a crappier human being.

Oh, what would it take for this soul to command the neurons in this brain to fire up the nerves within my spine to charge these fists to curve up against my ears and listen.
Just listen
to those who tread past me on a road I didn’t entirely choose but I’ve had to make my way through this life I don’t seem to nearly want somehow
as I drive through this highway eagerly looking for a sign.
Any sign
that can tell me which exit to take or which intersection eagerly awaits my arrival.
For all I imagine my destination to be is some sort of a ghost town
riddled with the souls of ancestors I did not know.
I wish,
I wish I could just hold those wise palms of my granddad again
and let each wrinkle tell me a story
of how he lived his life as a 26 year old,
of how he found his exit,
of how he held grandma and told her how he loved her for the very first time,
a grandma I never got to see
and even if it came to it, I would want that palm to slap this face a bit
straighten me up a little bit
let my ego take a hit and tell me to stop feeling like


It all comes down to this
I ain’t no knight in shining armor,
my armor is rusty and bent as I stand in a battlefield
fighting against this cancer in my mind that just won’t let me grow up
that tells me the truth of being born as a second generation Asian immigrant in an Arab land immersed in western media.
I realize that I don’t even know what my accent is supposed to sound like
and then I’m caught in between ‘being yourself’ and ‘being different’
but in the quest of being too different I ended up losing myself.

I have begun to realize
that just like a colourless rubik’s cube
there is no point in figuring me out;
A black and white rainbow
that shines for none
and I’m forced to show you only two shades of me
leaving the rest for you to seek
so tread carefully through the spectrums of this perfectly lost soul.

I know I didn’t choose these cracks or scars
but all I can do is accept them since they are a part of my reality
and ignorance won’t ever keep the promise
of making the stains disappear,
I smear new colours over them
and dab on the canvas of the moment
to create a bigger picture.

That’s the only beauty that remains
the beauty of this abstract mess called ‘life’.

Edition XII

embrace-by-adel-awad-photo-by-jacob-rankPhoto credit: Jacob Rank


By Adel Awad

When we embrace
It isn’t just bones and skin
Screaming from within
To let each other’s souls in

When we embrace
It is all the lonely nights
Fulfilling their wishes
One more time

When we embrace
It is stardust being magnetically glad
To have found a familiar bunch of specks
It is warmth to all the winters
A squeeze to remember
A cry to absolve
The chaos inside to cease
And let our hearts reverberate
The beat of peace

When we embrace
It isn’t just you and me
But two worlds that are momentarily complete
Where our scars intertwine with our dreams

Edition XVI

Sparks - by Adel Awad (photo by Allef Vinicius)Photo credit: Allef Vinicius


By Adel Awad

Its the sparks that light our lives
Glimmering the good moments
Allowing our smiles to weave
Christmas lights in our souls
Telling us that we get along just fine
But just like the carnival that visits town every winter
It could all be for a while

Life has its way of intertwining darkness
It’ll be up to us to shine the light
From our souls for one another
And become each other’s light

I ain’t no firework
That’ll capture the whole town’s hearts
For a few moments however
Before diminishing forever
I’d rather be a candle
For I have no desire to be the brightest
Last, I will
Gently through the night

The intermittent sparks that keep our spirits alive
Shall die the day
The stars stop shining in our favour
And you’ll want me to let go
To become my own light

Come that day
And I’ll wish I could
Set myself on fire

Edition XXVI

Graveyard of Dreams - by Adel Awad (Photo by Hakim El Haj)Photo credit: Hakim El Haj

Graveyard of Dreams

By Adel Awad

I wonder how many coffins I’ll need
For my graveyard of dreams
Scattered with withered roses
Colourless petals crumbled cluelessly
Blunt thorns that poked one too many hopes

An eerie silence echoes
The buzz of a billion bees
Banished by broken promises
Where once a droplet of nectar
Oozed after a thousand attempts
Thirsty for tomorrow

Dreams awoken by countless sleepless nights
Only to be put to sleep for the rest of eternity

Rest they shall, beyond the unfortunate bed of life
Rest in peace, my dreams rest in pieces

Video Archive

“Lost” – by Adel Awad

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