Lena Khalaf Tuffaha
Lena Khalaf Tuffaha is an American poets of Palestinian, Jordanian and Syrian heritage. She is Winner of the 2016 Two Sylvias Press Chapbook Prize. Her poems have been published in American and international journals including Blackbird, The Boiler, Borderlands Texas Review, The Indianola Review, James Franco Review, The Lake for Poetry, Lunch Ticket, Mizna, The Ofi Press Mexico, Sukoon, and the Taos Journal of International Poetry and Art. Several of her poems have been nominated for Pushcart Prizes, Immigrant in 2015 and for Middle Village and Ruin in 2016. She is an MFA candidate at the Rainier Writing Workshop at Pacific Lutheran University. She lives in Redmond, Washington with her family.
Water & Salt
Lena Khalaf Tuffaha
Publication Date: April 27, 2017
The poems in Water & Salt travel across borders between cultures and languages, between the present and the living past. These poems alternately rage, laugh, celebrate and grieve, singing in the voices of people ravaged by cycles of war and news coverage and inviting the reader to see the human lives lived beyond the headlines.
“Aside from wheat, essential ingredients for making bread are water and salt. And in Lena Khalaf Tuffaha’s luminous poems, she provides the necessary words to feed our humanity. The poems in Water & Salt are fearless and frank. They speak of a place where a phone call announces doom and where portraits find their frames. But always, despite the violence and war, in the music of Tuffaha’s poetry there is a clear summons, beckoning us to join in the feast of her language. These are poems that rise, surge, and stir us.—Oliver de La Paz
“Arab-American poet Lena Khalaf Tuffaha’s poems are both mirror and zaatar, sharing a clear-eyed picture of our sometimes-brutal worldas in the acid clarity of her ‘Running Orders’ and also feeding us from the harvest of possibility: the song of zaatar simmering in its native oil rises up and time evaporates. Her auspicious debut Water & Salt, named after the primal ingredients for slaking our thirst and satisfying our tongues, carries with it the aching wisdom of immigrants and mothers, whose lives are fraught with departure and carved by longing. Yet she turns the ominous language of border control into the tender music of trochaic hexameter: You will need to state the reason for your visit, and encourages us travelers that the story is still being written and our fractures aren’t done setting.”—Philip Metres