Flight of the Jaguar | Update #2 | The book is shipping

Halim Madi
The Mother of All Stories
2 min readFeb 2, 2020

These are part of the updates I sent supporters in 2019 as part of my kickstarter project, “Flight of the jaguar”. A collection of poems.

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Hi there!

The book is ready! 4 of few already got their signed copies. Some non supporters bought theirs! I know a few of you personally and will be handing the books to you when we meet. To be safe though, I’ll ask all of you to fill this form with your shipping address __.

A book signing performance is happening end of May and you’ll all be invited. That’s it! If you want to read more about the book you’ll get, read on below.

Thanks
Halim

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The book was printed in San Francisco’s Tenderloin.

The paper is not white. It’s beige.

It’s smooth and almost lures you in. It lures *me* in.

The cover is like a Japanese cup of tea.

Like an old tennis shoe from a vintage shop that’s been broken into far too many times.

It’s imperfect.

It’s perfect.

It’s recycled.

And you’ll see

The cover

Has no author name on it.

Your book has no author.

Maybe it felt like *a lot*

To have my name on the book

Like marking a child

Making sure the world *knows* where its roots lie

Why would you burden the child

With a last name

With a history that isn’t theirs

If they haven’t claimed it yet

A name on the cover would’ve broken

The design of the first page

There was no reason to have my name there

Because the book is yours now

Because these poems aren’t mine

They never were

Do you own a song you’ve listened to?

Is a rainbow you’ve seen yours?

Do you appropriate the world as you witness it?

The author is the listener

The author is the hollow bone

That whistles as the wind blows through

As the spirits catwalk where the marrow lied

Creation, like a good massage, is the work of both

The practitioner and the receiver

The tree that falls alone in the forest makes the loudest noise

And you know because I know because someone was there

And knew

And closed their eyes

And cringed and

Maybe smiled

That nature is doing its thing

That the dance is on

And nothing and no one else is needed

For dance to occur

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