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April 2008

Souk Ala'deen
By JDiab

Small aisles
Over priced nuts
Under priced spices
Overseas stashes
Expired chocolates and
Fine English toffees
A world view of teas
A true sight of coffees
Roll back a few centuries
To colonized India
Less divided Arabia
To ancient Turkish Delights
Persian and English treasures

The lights are not too bright
One can actually breathe
Home felt organic mom and pop
They way they used to be
Decorated prayer rugs lay
Skull caps and miswaks wait
Hand carved ma’moul wood moulds
Unique tools for stuffing squash
Copied D-Tal, imitation T- Fal
Pure olive oil surprise soap
Next to the ghee, clarified butter
See the henna and Hindi smiling girls
On the box of body care from a different world

There are no commercials
To intrude into your space
But wait! In the freezer sheep brains!
How old are those? Does your Feta
Contain hormones? We do not know
We might not perceive and they
Do not enquire; they proceed "Ma Lesh"

The olive, prized by even the youth
Kalimata, Greek or West Bank, Gaza?
Soft and firm hand made Pita
Asian Nan, Baladi, date filled, Roti
Saffron, cumin, coriander, curry
Lebnaniya, Pakistaniya, & Arabi
Jasmin, Egyptian, Golden, Basmati

Filled wafers from Croatia & Bosnia
Can be a risk: check for softness
They have a no-return policy.

The backbone comfort smell-inducer
Travels from the back kitchen ovens
Out into the entrance seemingly indifferent
She is from Baghdad, Babylon
Baby gone, cradle drawn
Cooking, serving, smiling, working
I gaze into her blue-grey eyes
They are a foot deep and a mile wide
They have many stories to tell
I can hear them and they’re not for sale

She won’t complain, she hides it well
Behind the counter and the apron
See a waiting soul, with a warm grin
Come back again…

To Souk Ala’deen

JDiab writes nasheeds, poems, illustrates children's media, and is currently experimenting with fine art. To learn more about JDiab, visit her on-line portfolio.