Donya Abdulhadi

Donya Abdulhadi

At 30 something, I have found adulthood to be generally underwhelming.
Brought to life in the beautiful capital of the world, Rome – and nowhere else have felt as beautiful.
Ethnically Libyan, perpetually conquered.
Educated in Canada, always open to new ideas.
Found love in Egypt, thrilled by chaos.
Found a home in Dubai, visionary.
Wildly imaginative. 
Nostalgic. 
Defiantly joyful.
Easily inspired.
A creative strategist.
Forcefully myself.

Find out more about me through:
My Linkedin
Behance 

Lapis Lazuli - by Donya Abdulhadi

Lapis Lazuli

By Donya Abdulhadi

My little Blue contains truth and enlightenment.
My little Blue came in like a stingy lemon drop in an unsalted meal;
a sweet new focus.
My little Blue is loved,
and sometimes neglected;
each calcite a hard lesson learned.
A masterpiece made by Him,
sacred.
Golden shimmers glistening with optimism and wit, defying the calcification of each lesson learned.

My little Blue is in a vase of white and yellow flowers on a glass table in Kensington;
a beacon of change, she grows to colour the sky and the sea.
She will splash with other blues and whites and yellows and reds
to create meaning for us and replenish the world over.


Edition VIII

Withdraw and Overcome - by Donya Abdulhadi

Withdraw and Overcome

By Donya Abdulhadi

You think the end begins when your arms are dead weight.
Your gaze sinks. Eyes heavy. Shoulders: drop the burden now. Give up.
Release the grip of the toxicity that held you together and that pulled you back.
Inhale the grief, let it engulf you; revel in it. Resign. Give up

and seek Him.
Find his eyes.
Withdraw like a tide with all your might and then overcome,
as he fills your empty vessel again.
Now catch the beautiful sound of steps on wet gravel
on a rainy day
and begin again.


Edition XXI

Stalemate with Narcissus - by Donya Abdulhadi (Photo by Hakim El Haj)Photo credit: Hakim El Haj

Stalemate with Narcissus

By Donya Abdulhadi

Stalemate.
His emptiness burns through me like a candle under a sheet of paper.
His stubbornness a long lament breaking the summer day’s sun;
thick fingers pressed round my neck.
His apathy waiting for the moment to inhale me, own me and release me.

He takes a drink and cloud his vision, dims his sight.
He lights a cigarette – smoke.
I take a drink and level my sight to his.
I smoke a cigarette – mirroring him.
He sees himself, not me, and so he doesn’t know me.

His move.
I am Nemesis – play me, and you’ll lose.
His deflection, distortion, silence chokes me.
His single word and its double meanings.
The hero I had seen in him was me.
I saw myself in you.

Lock the narcissist in a windowless space, become a mirror. He can’t have you.
His image and the sound of your heartbeat – the silent drum of your slow victory.

I burn, he inhales me. Will he release what is left of me?
Stalemate with Narcissus.
His game may have me undone.


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