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Famous Louis Yako Quotes

“[Silent Messages] I’ve lost track of all the times I have passed by married couples or lovers Dinning at fancy upscale restaurants in foreign cities When the woman sitting across the table from her lover Gives me that quick look Conveying in a painful silence That she no longer loves him, That she wishes she were elsewhere… And each time, I respond with an equally silent look: Why are you there? Why don’t you turn this dinner table of triviality on him, And on everything that happened and is happening And just walk away? [Original poem published in Arabic on November 8, 2022 at ahewar.org]”

LoveRelationshipsCourageWomen EmpowermentBreaking UpLife ChoicesArabic PoetryArabic LiteratureDysfunctional Relationships
Author:Louis Yako
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“I’m red poppy from the mountains of the homeland The winds are my tunes The thunder is my voice When I object what is going on… Rains are my tears When I’m speechless The gushing sounds of water Are my hearty songs… *** I’m red poppy from the mountains of the homeland When I welt, I shall leave smiling And assured that my seeds Shall create vast meadows of wildflowers For future generations Wiser than you and I…”

LoveHomeWisdomHumanityNatureBeautyCommunicationBelongingArabic PoetryWildflowers
Book:أنا زهرة برية [I am a Wildflower]
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“A long time ago, I discovered that all I have been taught about the disconnect and the contradiction between the heart and the mind is false and misleading. I have learned to feel with my mind and think with my heart. I have learned that the two are not enemies, but Siamese twins – you can’t silence one without crushing the other, too.”

LoveMindHeartKnowledgeCreativityObjectivitySubjectivityDecolonialityKnowledge ProductionLife Of The Mind
Author:Louis Yako
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“Being customers in our society is dangerous. It alienates us from each other. People will prefer to spend long and lonely hours in front of the TV watching life but never really living. We must honestly ask ourselves this question: Why do we allow ourselves to become a society where neighbors or people in the same neighborhood will only find a reason to talk with each other when their dogs sniff each other by chance? Even then, the talk is just superficial and all about the weather or the pets! Why do we allow ourselves to live in a culture where many people believe that their pets are their best friends because they ‘don’t judge me’ or ‘they love me unconditionally,’ as many like to explain? If we live in a society where the only creature who can understand, love, or support us is our pet, then perhaps we have some serious problems to confront, with all respect to the dogs’ wonderful company and friendship (I have a pet also). Perhaps we need a serious change.”

LoveInspirationalWisdomRelationshipsChangeSocietyLonelinessAlienationAmerican CultureHuman Connections
Author:Louis Yako
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“(Twins in the Wound) It took me years to understand that we didn’t love each other because we were conventionally compatible or in perfect harmony, but because we were broken and shattered in the same exact places… We are twins in the wound, abandoned and banished by our families when they discovered we refused to play by the rules of the overwhelming—and overwhelmed—majority… And so, my love, I hid you from everyone, not out of shame, but out of dread of the tyranny and ignorance of the rabble… From your hidden love I learned that only love which quietly masters the art of hiding from watchful eyes and hypocrites survives in the end… May 15, 2024”

LoveTrue LoveWoundsCompanionshipForbidden LoveArabic PoetryCompatibilityArabic Literature
Book:سرطان في كل مكان [Cancer Everywhere]
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“Lights" Lights of churches, monasteries, Christmas trees, and magnificent mosques The dim lights inside warm houses in all the foreign cities where I wandered alone The far away lights of cars driving over bridges I watched from the windows of boring hotels on clear moonlit nights Candle lights and lanterns Lights of little shops in ancient and forgotten alleys Lights of ships sailing to places I will never get to see The lamp post lights on dark rainy winter nights The remote lighthouses and lights of unknown fishermen The glittering lights I have seen in the eyes of kind strangers in cities tourists never go to All these lights I once loved that break me now as they remind me of the magical light that was extinguished in your eyes … [Original poem published in Arabic on November 13, 2024 at ahewar.org]”

LoveLife LessonsLossSorrowBelovedBroken HeartCompanionshipArabic PoetryLightsArabic Literature
Author:Louis Yako
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“[Silent Messages 2] She sat to rearrange the contents of her disorganized handbag At the crowded bus terminal When she lifted her head for a short interval, Her eyes caught a young couple kissing, touching, and hugging In a performative and exaggerated manner... When the couple noticed her, The young woman gave her a mean and malicious look as if asking: Are you jealous of all the love I am surrounded by? She returned the look with a sly one as if responding: The love that exaggerates in displaying itself in public Is either immature, dead, or dying… [Original poem published in Arabic on December 5, 2022 at ahewar.org]”

LoveImmaturityArabic PoetryArabic LiteraturePerformativityLack Of WisdomPublic Display Of Affection
Author:Louis Yako
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“[Silent Messages 2] She was rearranging her messy handbag at the crowded bus station When she lifted her head for a short interval, Her eyes caught a young couple kissing, touching, and hugging In an exaggerated and performative manner When the couple noticed her, The young woman gave her a mean and malicious look as if asking: Are you jealous of all the love I am surrounded by? She returned the look with a sly one as if responding: The love that exaggerates in displaying itself in public Is either new and inexperienced, dead, or dying… [[Original poem published in Arabic on December 5, 2022 at ahewar.org]”

LoveExperienceJealousyMaliceArabic PoetryArabic LiteraturePerformativityPublic Display Of AffectionThe Art Of Loving
Author:Louis Yako
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“Barbie” Through my many long travels I’ve seen women reading books on planes, buses, and trains… Over the years, three titles caught my eye, each in the hands of women who looked—or tried to look—like the Barbie doll. I don’t recall the exact names, but one was along the lines of ‘How to Keep Your Husband’ or ‘How to Preserve Your Marriage.’ The second warned of ‘Signs He’s Cheating on You,’ and the third promised how to get rid of him—and move on. It felt as if these three titles mapped out the lifecycle of every woman who lets herself play Barbie. And I often wonder: wouldn’t reading ‘How to Stop Playing the Barbie Role in Love and Life’ be enough to solve all the problems those books claim to fix? [Original poem published”

LoveRelationshipsMarriageFeminismGenderWomen EmpowermentSuperficialityArabic PoetryArabic Literature
Author:Louis Yako
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“Silent Messages – 2” She sat at the crowded bus terminal, rearranging the contents of her disorganized handbag. When she lifted her head for a moment, her eyes fell on a young couple kissing, touching, and hugging in a performative, exaggerated manner. As they noticed her, the young woman cast a mean, malicious look— as if to ask, ‘Are you jealous of all the love that surrounds me?’ She returned the glance with a sly one, as if replying, ‘Love that must parade itself in public is either immature, dead, or dying…”

LoveWisdomRomanceRelationshipsMarriageFeminismTrue LoveGenderArabic PoetryArabic Literature
Book:سرطان في كل مكان [Cancer Everywhere]
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“In all the languages I speak, they say, ‘I fell in love.’ I always wondered why we have to fall if we are really loved. Why do we not stand in love? Why do we love someone to ‘death’ not to life? Perhaps the day we learn how to stand in language, we shall also be able to stand in love, to love our lovers to life, and to turn the language we speak from chains in our hands into wings to help us fly away from the prison we have built from it.”

LoveInspirationalWisdomMindfulnessLanguages And CultureLinguistic Hegemony
Author:Louis Yako
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“Lights” Lights of churches, monasteries, Christmas trees, and magnificent mosques. The dim lights inside warm houses in every foreign city where I wandered alone. The far-away headlights of cars crossing bridges, watched from the windows of dreary hotels on clear, moonlit nights. Candlelight and lanterns, the lights of small shops in ancient, forgotten alleys, the lights of ships sailing to places I will never see, lamp-post lights on dark, rainy winter nights, solitary lighthouses and the lights of unknown fishermen, the glittering lights I saw in the eyes of kind strangers in cities tourists never visit. All these lights I once loved now break me; they remind me of the magical light that was extinguished in your eyes…”

LoveLightLossDarknessLonelinessLongingYearningLost LoveArabic PoetryArabic Literature
Book:سرطان في كل مكان [Cancer Everywhere]
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“(A Flock of Geese) She often wondered why an inexplicable sorrow wells within her each time a flock of geese takes to the sky… Do their flights remind her that she has wasted her life in the trivialities of daily existence? Or do they hint that she has lost her own capacity to fly? Sometimes, in her sadness, she reflects on years poured out like a naïve bride dreaming of the perfect groom— planning every minute detail until her wings were clipped, unaware that the bride, the groom, the wedding are roles society invented to tether those who yearn to build new worlds rather than hang in one made for them by others. When the honking of another passing flock echoes overhead—just as her most beautiful years flew by— that cry ignites in her an uncontrollable urge to depart, to reject the illusion of home and stability, the wedding and the groom, the guests dancing through the night celebrating the clipping of her wings… December 14, 2023”

LoveFreedomMarriageSocietyChainsWomen EmpowermentConventionsTraditionsArabic PoetryHeteronormativity
Book:سرطان في كل مكان [Cancer Everywhere]
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“Pity" Amir sat on the same old wooden chair Roua still remembers vividly the furniture store where she bought that chair - less than a month after their wedding… The furniture store closed its doors a long time ago, Along with the doors of their stormy pre-marital love story perhaps in due to boredom or the shocks of the years… She would cut his hair, a habit that began when they were poor and Amir couldn’t afford a barber … Years went by and many things changed, But Roua kept cutting his hair on the same wooden chair almost once a month… He sat in his underwear She looked at his saggy skin that was getting looser and his belly getting slightly bigger with each haircut… She began wandering in her mind and wondering whether she ever loved him, or was it an overwhelming infatuation that turned into pity over the years without ever passing through the corridors of love? Her emotions kept swinging between love or pity with each snip … She was frightened to admit it was pity, for the price was almost her entire life… Yet she couldn’t sincerely determine it was love, for she hasn’t felt any love towards him for quite a time… Suddenly, she caught Amir looking at her as if he could read her mind… A tear involuntarily rolled down her eye as she continued cutting his hair… [Original poem published in Arabic on August 3, 2023 at ahewar.org]”

LoveMarriageAgingPityBoredomSympathyArabic PoetryArabic LiteratureAge GapEnd Of Love
Author:Louis Yako
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“[Love Wasn’t as They Said] Love wasn’t as they said… It didn’t last forever as they claimed… It is fleeting moments only recognized By those with sight and insight… And perhaps only captured By those patiently waiting as if to see a lightning in the sky… And, like lightning perhaps, we never know Where love goes after it strikes… And perhaps the only love that lasts Is one that know when to stay and when to walk away… ** Love wasn’t synonymous with honor As they defined honor... It is often the awareness that falls upon us After betraying or letting down the loved ones… Love wasn’t holding hands forever, It is boring afternoons spent together With no words And no activities… It wasn’t lifetime sexual attraction As many claimed… It is the companionship that remains After the hormonal fires are put out, When the noises of immaturity go silent, And after the childish quarrels and squabbles stop… It is the home that remains erected Long after getting erectile dysfunction… It that appetite for life after the last egg from the last period… It is that strange feeling of elation That may come after what is mistakenly called a “midlife crisis”, To fill that frightening gap between hope and reality… ** Love is a widow brushing her hair, On a bus or in a public place, Unbothered by onlookers or passersby, As she opens her shabby handbag And takes out an apple to bite on With the teeth she has left… Love is an eye surrounded with wrinkles But is finally able to see the world Sensitively, insightfully, and more realistically, Without exaggerated embellishment or distortion… ** Love is shreds of joy Interspersed with long intervals Of boredom, exhaustion, reproach, and disappointment… It’s not measured with red flowers, bears, and expensive gifts in shiny wraps, It is who remains when the glucose, blood pressure and cholesterol numbers are high… It’s those who stay after the heart catheterization and knee replacement surgeries… Love gets stronger after getting osteoporosis And may move mountains despite the rheumatism… ** Love is the few seconds when our eyes cross with strangers Who awaken in us feelings we hadn’t experienced with those living with us in years… Or perhaps it’s rubbing arms and shoulders with a passenger On a bus, in a train, or on a plane… It is that fleeting look from a passerby in the street Convey to us that they, too, have understood the game, But there’s not much they can do about it… ** Love wasn’t as they said It wasn’t as they said… It is not 1+1=2… It is sometimes three or more… At other times, it grows at point zero or lower, In solitude, in loneliness, and in seclusion… Isn’t it time, I wonder, to demolish everything falsely, unfairly, and misleadingly attributed to love? Or is it that love burns and dies Precisely when we try to capture it in our hands? [Original poem published in Arabic on October 27, 2022 at ahewar.org]”

LoveRelationshipsMarriageInfidelityRelationship AdviceArabic PoetryArabic LiteratureValentines DayLove Affairs
Author:Louis Yako
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