لم ينتظر الشاعر المالي عبدالمنعم حسن محمد، من يأخذ بيده، وهو يعلم أن الطريق طويل، لكنه ملأ قلبه بالأمل، وبدأ خطواته الأولى مكتمل المشاعر نحو القصيدة، والوعي بالفراغات التي عليها أن يكملها دون أن تُنقصه، وما بين أول بيتٍ وُضع للناس، وبين تمبكتو، نسجت الذاكرة بيته، بخيوط نورانية، وزيّنته بالصور التي لم تبرح تتجدد في ركن من القلب، وبين ما كان، وما هو كائن؛ نفتح باب مثاقفة، مع شاعر زاخرة روحه بكل ما هو إنساني، فإلى نص الحوار:
• متى قدمت أسرتك لمكة؟
•• هاجر والدي من (تمبكتو) إلى جهة القبلة، في شبابه الباكر وسيراً على الأقدام، أمضى سنوات في طريق رحلته، قبل أن يُلقي رحله في ميناء جدة، ثم الاستقرار في مكة المكرمة، بنيّة مجاورة الحرم، كان ذلك في عهد الملك سعود، رحمه الله، أما والدتي فصحبها جدي إلى مكة وهي طفلة.
• أين وُلدت؟
•• ولدت في مكة المكرمة، في حي جرول.
• ما الذي تختزنه الذاكرة من حارات مكة ورفاق الطفولة والصبا؟
•• كما تتدفق بئر زمزم بحكاية الماء الخالدة، تنهمر التفاصيل، عصية عن الجفاف والنسيان. الحارة في مكة مفعمة بالحيوية والأحداث، واللغط والأهازيج والمناسبات، يتشابك فيها النسيج الاجتماعي، ولا يمر يوم دون وقوع حادثة سعيدة أو عكسها. الألقاب التي تُمنح لكل فرد لها وقع الأسطورة في الذاكرة، لذا تختزن «نداءات الأزقة الدافئة».. سجلات ضخمة تقبع في رفوف ذاكرتي، أركن إليها وألتمس فيها صفو الخاطر. كل خلية في وجداني نبتت من أنفاس كائنات مكة. فيض الروائح، أشجار النيم، لحظات اصطياد النبق، شلة الأنس، الغزل الصامت والخجول، نظرات اليابات المقلقة (المزمرجيّة)، مواسم الحج، حمَام رب البيت وهو يلتقط الحَب في صباحات الحرم، كما يلتقط الرفاق بذور الوفاء من أنحاء قلبي، وصوت فوزي محسون يناشد مع طلال «أهل الحرم بالله ردو علي روحي». كبرتُ في جبل غراب، تدحرجَت خطوات صباي في سفح جبل هندي، خبأت أسرار المراهقة في جبل عمر، وفي كل منحدر ومنحنى لي نديم.. ألا يا دوم دام لك النعيم.
• ما هي ينابيع البئر الأولى؟
•• لا أجد غضاضة في أن أقول: التلفزيون؛ الذي كانت برامج القناة السعودية الأولى تمسك الطفل من تلابيبه، المناهل، لغتنا الجميلة، مسلسل عازف الليل... إلخ، أيضا -من حُسن طالعي- أسرتي كانت تهتم بالكتب والفنون. كراسات الرسم والألوان الزيتية تتناثر في غرفة المعيشة، وهناك كتب وقصص وأشرطة أغان تدخل إلى البيت باستمرار.. تعليم والدي إياي حروف الهجاء، وإلحاقي بتحفيظ القرآن، ثم الدراسة لاحقاً في المدرسة الصولتية، أقدم مدرسة في مكة، وقصتها مشهورة.
• كيف يمكن أن يحفظ ويحتفظ الطفل بلغته الأم في ظل تعدد اللغات واللهجات؟
•• اللغة كنز ثمين، وكلما أضفت لغة إلى صندوق وعيك اتسع مجال الإدراك لديك، يحدثني صديق عربي يعيش في فرنسا وزوجته برتغالية، أنهما اتفقا على ألا يتكلم كل منهما مع ابنهما إلا بلغته الأم، فكبر الطفل وهو يتقن ثلاث لغات بالتلقي.
• ما الذي قدح زناد القصيدة في روحك؟
•• الغيرة.. زميلي في الصف الأول المتوسط كتب شعراً، ونال عليه ثناءً وتشجيعاً، فقلت حينها: لم لا أفعل أنا أيضاً؟! وكانت تلك الواقعة الشرارة الأولى، التي تهيأت لها بيئة مدرسية تتميز بنشاط جاد، وأساتذة يقدّرون المواهب ويوبخون على إهمالها، بقدر ما يكافئون على العناية بها.
• من غذّى هذه المَلَكة فيك، وبماذا غذّاها؟
•• أخي الأكبر، كان يسخر من كل جملة أكتبها، إذا لم يتوفر بها شرط من شروط الشعر، وحين كتبت الأبيات الموزونة الأولى، قال لي: بدأت تمسك الدرب.
• هل للإرث الثقافي والحضاري لباماكو أثر في تشكيل وجدانك وذائقتك الشعرية؟
•• باماكو، عاصمة مالي، مدينة تقع على ضفتي نهر عظيم، ذي تاريخ عريق، اسم المدينة بإحدى اللغات المحلية يعني (ظهر التمساح) إشارة إلى رمزية ثقافية شديدة العمق والدلالة، وإذا تجولت في شوارع المدينة تصافحك تماثيل مختلفة ورائعة، لشخصيات ثقافية وفكرية مثل المناضل الأفريقي (كوامي نكروما)، و(نصب فلسطين)، وجدارية (محمد الدرة)، وربما ترى تمثال كرة قدم ضخمة تحفها رموز دول أمم أفريقيا، أو منحوتة فيل، أو فرس نهر، أو شعلة للسلام، أو جنود، أو امرأة تندب أطفالها.. كل منحوتة تنطوي على قصة. إضافة إلى المتاحف ودور مخطوطات وآثار، وقصر الثقافة الذي يضم قاعة ممهورة باسم (أديبمالي الكبير أمادو أمباتي با) الذي قال: «موت مسن في أفريقيا بمثابة احتراق مكتبة كاملة». ستنطلق من هناك عبر باعة الكتب المتجولين لتصل إلى سوق الفنانين المقابل لجامع الملك فيصل وسط المدينة، وتقرع مسامعك أنغام عذبة لـ(علي فركا توري)، و(أومو سنغاري)، و(ساليف كيتا) تحمل كلماتها، خلاصة الحكمة والشعر. يجب أن أُرهِف الحس لتمتلئ بِركة وجداني بقصائد جديدة، تفيض بمجرد أن أفتح فمي أو أتناول بيدي القلم.
وأهم إرث حضاري في (باماكو) يتمثل في المثقفين الماليين الذين درسوا العربية وأتقنوها، وأثروا التخصص في الجامعات والمعاهد في مالي، وصنعوا إسهامات عربية لافتة، في سعي ليس بغريب عن التراث الضخم الذي أُنتج منذ قرون، في (تمبكتو) و(غاوو) إبان الإمبراطوريات الإسلامية التي شهدتها المنطقة، وامتد تأثيرها في كل القارة قبل أن يغمس المُستعمِّر أصبعه في الحساء.
• هل تنتظر القصيدة أم تبادر بالذهاب إليها؟
•• كثيرا ما اعترى الشاعر الذهول، وقارب استنكار أن تكون هذه الكلمات بالتحديد صدرت منه هو تحديداً، وينسى اللحظات التي أنفقها في رصف الكلمات وفق هذه المعاني العميقة والصور المبهرة، ويتساءل باستغراب: هل فعلاً أنا من كتب هذا؟! أنا أنتظر القصيدة، أحياناً تأتي في هيئة مكان مناسب لكتابتها، أو دمعة لا أستطيع مغالبتها عند مباغتة حزن، أو على شكل حلم يتكرر. وحده شعر المناسبات ما أسعى وراءه، وأتكلف في التماسه، لذلك يذهب جفاء حيث يذهب الزبَد.
• كم تمنح القصيدة من وقت قبل أن تطرق الأسماع؟
•• دربت نفسي على عدم نشر القصيدة بعد الفراغ منها مباشرة، بل أدعها يوماً وليلة كي لا يبقى في نفسي كثير تردد، مع أنني لا أملك الجلد على المراجعة والتنقيح، أنحاز إلى شبهة الارتجال، فالفن الصادق؛ ما يصل إلى المتلقي ملطخاً بتراب النفس..
• من أوّل من تطلعه على نصك وأنت مطمئن لرأيه؟
•• أحب ذلك الصديق الذي سقطت الكلفة بيننا، فهو لا يفكر مرتين قبل أن يقول لي مثلاً: نصك زي وجهك. فأعرف حينها أنني لم أكتب قصيدة تستحق النشر.
• ماذا تبقى من شقة الحرية التي جمعتك بالشاعر إبراهيم حسن وآخرين؟
•• ربما أهب سنة من عمري مقابل ساعة واحدة من أيام الشقة، في جدة مع برهوم، صديقي الذي أنقذني مراراً من التكرار ورمال التقليد المتحركة، رأيت في صحبته كيف يعيش الشاعر الشعرَ، جدران الشقة، في عمارة قديمة، بشارع فلسطين، عرفنا أن سيد البيد محمد الثبيتي سكن ذات العمارة قبلنا بـ15 عاماً، غاليري يضم لوحات عالمية، لا أدري من أين جاء بها إبراهيم! طاقة الشقة شديدة الكثافة والخفة، الرطوبة وغزوات البق لم تعكر صفو الود والقراءة والصمت والشاي. الكتب غالية يا برهوم، لا عليك، سنجد ما نأكله، ثم ننفق جميع نقودنا على دوستوفيسكي، وتشيخوف، وهنري ميللر، وأمجد ناصر وعدنان الصائغ، وأناييس نن، وتوني موريسون، وريلكه وأعمال كاملة لشعراء يفاجئني برهوم بأسمائهم الغريبة! مئات الكتب والأفلام والمقابسات، من خلالها أزعم أننا تأسسنا جيداً، إبراهيم وأنا، في الشقة العامرة تلك تقاسمنا فيها التشجيع والتحفيز، وكثيراً من القهقهات.. بقي منها مخزون لا بأس به من الصرامة في التعاطي مع الأدب، وأحاديث عريضة ندخرها للقاءاتنا القادمة، عن «الزمن المفقود».
• إلى أين تأخذك القصيدة وإلى أين تأخذها؟
•• إنما أنا فتى يكتشف القصيدة، تأخذني إلى أصدق منطقة في الكائن؛ إلى رحابة الانتماء، لا أعرف ماهية الوجهة، لكن حدسي يحس بضوء ما.. وآخذ القصيدة إلى زمن اللازورد.
• كيف ترى أثر القصيدة في الواقع المعاصر؟ ومستقبلها كيف سيكون؟
•• حيث يوجد الغناء يوجد الشعر، أحب وجهة نظر غازي القصيبي، في كون الشعر غاية لا وسيلة. وإذن، فلا يجب أن ننتظر من القصيدة أن تفعل شيئاً، القصيدة قالب يحدث فيه الأثر، وليست موضوعاً للتأثير.
• لماذا لم تجنح للنثر باعتباره محرابا نسّاك شعر الأحداث؟
•• العادات قاهرات كما يقول (أبو حيان التوحيدي) في الإمتاع والمؤانسة، أحد الكتب المفضلة لدي. كما أن مفضلتي تزخر بقصائد نثر كثيرة. لا أفرق بين أحد من أنواع الشعر، لكنني أكتب الموزون أكثر لأني اعتدت على ذلك.
• أي إضافة تمنحها المسابقات الشعرية للشاعر عدا الماديات؟
•• التقدم خطوات أوسع في ميدان الشهرة، نشوة التفوق على المتنافسين فرصة لمراجعة التجربة.
شخصياً، كدت أمنح روحي للسرد ضربة لازب، لولا أن أعادتني مسابقة شعرية إلى قلعة الشعر.
ما زالت ثمار هذه التجربة ناضجة، أقطفها في عيون محبي الشعر ومتابعيه هنا وهناك، وانعكست على مسيرتي بشكل إيجابي، وأخرجتني من عزلتي إلى ساحة التفاعل.
أضافت لي تصوراً مغايراً عن جمهور الشعر وعلاقاته الوديّة، بكل شاعر لديه طموح شعري، وعززت المسؤولية تجاه تقديم القصيدة باهتمام أكبر، وأخذ الموهبة على محمل الجد. أهدتني المسابقات جمهوراً كبيراً من عشاق الشعر العربي مالي وساحل العاج والنيجر ونيجيريا والسنغال وغانا وكل أنحاء أفريقيا، إضافة إلى العالم العربي والخليج، وأهداني حبهم وفخرهم، وأهلي خصوصاً عرفوا قيمة أن يكتب ابنهم الشعر وشعروا باعتزاز..
• ماذا يعني الوطن للشاعر؟
•• وطن الشاعر حيث لا يضطر إلى استعمال (الجي بي إس) من أجل الوصول إلى بيته أو مقهى يواعد فيه حبيبته.
• ما تعليقك على مقولة: الفيتوري طبع بصمته على شعراء أفريقيا؟
•• أنا أحب شعر الفيتوري، وأتمنى أن ينطلق شعراء أفريقيا بالعربية من نهج إبداعه، وأظنه لا يزال قليل التأثير في شعراء أفريقيا غير العربية، مقارنة بغيره من رواد الشعر الحديث، لأسباب تتعلق بتقصير الإعلام.
• لمن تقرأ اليوم من شعراء المملكة؟
•• أقرأ لجميع شعراء المملكة، باختلاف أجيالهم ومشاربهم، بما في ذلك الشعر الشعبي الحاضر في قائمة قراءاتي..
الشعر السعودي يمتاز بالتنوع والغزارة، فهو يُكتب في الأحساء بسعف نخيل الخلاص، وفي جازان بعيون الفل، ويُنحت على صخور تبوك، ويطوى ويُنشر في الحجاز، ولاتُحدّ مضامينه بحدود الصحراء..
آخر المجموعات الشعرية التي قرأتها كانت لمحمد سيدي، عبدالله بيلا، هدى المبارك، محمد خضر، إياد حكمي، طارق الصميلي، إبراهيم مبارك، محمد إبراهيم يعقوب، عبدالله ناجي، وآخرين رائعين.
أكد أنه خبّأ أسرار مراهقته في جبال مكة
الشاعر عبدالمنعم حسن: أسعى وراء شِعر المناسبات ويذهب جُفاء
8 أغسطس 2025 - 15:23
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آخر تحديث 8 أغسطس 2025 - 15:23
تابع قناة عكاظ على الواتساب
حاوره: علي الرباعي
The Malian poet Abdul-Mun'im Hassan Muhammad did not wait for someone to take his hand, knowing that the road is long. Instead, he filled his heart with hope and took his first steps, fully immersed in emotions towards poetry, aware of the gaps he must fill without diminishing it. Between the first verse placed for the people and Timbuktu, memory wove his home with luminous threads, adorning it with images that continuously renew in a corner of the heart. Between what was and what is; we open a door to cultural exchange with a poet whose spirit is rich with all that is human. Here is the text of the dialogue:
• When did your family move to Mecca?
•• My father migrated from Timbuktu towards the Qibla in his early youth, walking on foot. He spent years on the road of his journey before he settled in the port of Jeddah and then established himself in Mecca, intending to be near the Sacred Mosque. This was during the reign of King Saud, may God have mercy on him. As for my mother, my grandfather took her to Mecca when she was a child.
• Where were you born?
•• I was born in Mecca, in the neighborhood of Jirwal.
• What does memory hold from the alleys of Mecca and childhood friends?
•• Just as the Zamzam well flows with the eternal story of water, the details pour forth, resistant to drought and forgetfulness. The neighborhood in Mecca is vibrant with life and events, noise, chants, and occasions, intertwining the social fabric, and not a day passes without a happy incident or its opposite. The titles given to each individual have the weight of legend in memory, thus preserving the "calls of the warm alleys"... massive records lie on the shelves of my memory, which I lean on and seek solace in. Every cell in my being sprouted from the breaths of the beings of Mecca. The flood of scents, the neem trees, moments of catching the nabq fruit, the group of friends, the silent and shy flirtation, the anxious gazes of the "yabats" (the musicians), the seasons of pilgrimage, the householder's pigeons picking grains in the mornings of the sanctuary, just as friends pick the seeds of loyalty from the corners of my heart, and the voice of Fawzi Mahsoun calling with Talal, "Oh people of the sanctuary, return my soul to me." I grew up in Jabal Ghurab, my youthful steps rolled down the slope of Jabal Hindi, I hid the secrets of adolescence in Jabal Omar, and in every slope and curve, I had a companion... Oh, may your bliss endure forever.
• What are the springs of the first well?
•• I find no shame in saying: television; which held the child by the collar with the programs of the first Saudi channel, the sources, our beautiful language, the series "The Night Player"... etc. Also - by good fortune - my family was interested in books and arts. Drawing notebooks and oil colors scattered in the living room, and there were books, stories, and music tapes continuously entering the house... My father teaching me the letters of the alphabet, enrolling me in Quran memorization, and then studying later at Al-Soultania School, the oldest school in Mecca, whose story is famous.
• How can a child preserve and retain their mother tongue amidst the multiplicity of languages and dialects?
•• Language is a precious treasure, and the more languages you add to your awareness, the broader your understanding becomes. A friend of mine, an Arab living in France with a Portuguese wife, told me that they agreed not to speak to their son except in their mother tongues, so the child grew up mastering three languages through exposure.
• What sparked the flame of poetry in your soul?
•• Jealousy... A classmate in the first year of middle school wrote poetry and received praise and encouragement, so I thought: why can't I do it too?! That incident was the first spark, for which a school environment prepared, characterized by serious activity, and teachers who appreciate talents and reprimand neglect as much as they reward care.
• Who nurtured this talent in you, and how did they nurture it?
•• My older brother used to mock every sentence I wrote if it did not meet the conditions of poetry. When I wrote my first metered verses, he told me: you are starting to find your way.
• Does the cultural and civilizational heritage of Bamako have an impact on shaping your sensibility and poetic taste?
•• Bamako, the capital of Mali, is a city located on the banks of a great river, with a rich history. The name of the city in one of the local languages means "the back of the crocodile," indicating a deeply symbolic cultural significance. If you wander through the streets of the city, you are greeted by various and wonderful statues of cultural and intellectual figures such as the African activist (Kwame Nkrumah), the (Palestine Monument), and the mural of (Mohammed Al-Durra). You might also see a huge football statue surrounded by symbols of African nations, or a sculpture of an elephant, a hippopotamus, a peace flame, soldiers, or a woman mourning her children... Each sculpture holds a story. In addition to the museums and libraries of manuscripts and artifacts, and the cultural palace that houses a hall named after (the great Malian writer Amadou Hampâté Bâ), who said: "The death of an elder in Africa is like the burning of a whole library." From there, you will pass through the street vendors of books to reach the artists' market opposite King Faisal Mosque in the city center, where the sweet melodies of (Ali Farka Touré), (Oumou Sangaré), and (Salif Keita) resonate, carrying words that encapsulate wisdom and poetry. I must sharpen my senses to fill the pool of my emotions with new poems, overflowing as soon as I open my mouth or take the pen in my hand.
And the most important cultural legacy in Bamako is represented by the Malian intellectuals who studied Arabic and mastered it, enriching the specialization in universities and institutes in Mali, and making remarkable Arabic contributions, in a quest that is not strange to the massive heritage produced for centuries in Timbuktu and Gao during the Islamic empires that the region witnessed, whose influence extended throughout the continent before the colonizer dipped his finger into the broth.
• Do you wait for poetry or do you take the initiative to go to it?
•• The poet often experiences astonishment, almost disbelief that these specific words came from him, and forgets the moments he spent arranging the words according to these deep meanings and dazzling images, wondering in surprise: Did I really write this?! I wait for poetry; sometimes it comes in the form of a suitable place to write, or a tear I cannot hold back when confronted with sadness, or in the form of a recurring dream. Only occasion poetry is what I seek, and I strive to find it, thus it goes dry where the foam goes.
• How much time does poetry grant before it reaches the ears?
•• I trained myself not to publish the poem immediately after finishing it; rather, I leave it for a day and a night so that there isn’t too much hesitation left in my soul, although I lack the patience for review and editing. I lean towards the suspicion of improvisation, for true art; what reaches the recipient is stained with the dust of the soul...
• Who is the first person you share your text with when you are confident of their opinion?
•• I love that friend with whom the formality has fallen away; he does not think twice before telling me, for example: your text is like your face. So I know then that I have not written a poem worthy of publication.
• What remains of the apartment of freedom that brought you together with the poet Ibrahim Hassan and others?
•• Perhaps I would give a year of my life for just one hour from the days of the apartment in Jeddah with Barhoum, my friend who repeatedly saved me from repetition and the shifting sands of imitation. I saw in his company how a poet lives poetry; the walls of the apartment, in an old building on Palestine Street, we learned that the master of the desert, Mohammed Al-Thubaiti, lived in the same building 15 years before us. A gallery containing global paintings, I don’t know where Ibrahim brought them from! The energy of the apartment was intensely dense and light, the humidity and invasions of bugs did not disturb the tranquility of friendship, reading, silence, and tea. Books are precious, Barhoum, don’t worry, we will find something to eat, then we will spend all our money on Dostoevsky, Chekhov, Henry Miller, Amjad Nasser, Adnan Al-Sayegh, Anaïs Nin, Toni Morrison, Rilke, and complete works of poets whose strange names Barhoum surprises me with! Hundreds of books, films, and excerpts, through which I claim that Ibrahim and I were well established, in that bustling apartment we shared encouragement and motivation, and many laughs... It left a considerable stock of seriousness in dealing with literature, and broad discussions we reserve for our upcoming meetings about "the lost time."
• Where does poetry take you, and where do you take it?
•• I am merely a young man discovering poetry; it takes me to the most authentic area of existence; to the vastness of belonging. I do not know the nature of the destination, but my intuition feels some light... and I take poetry to the time of lapis lazuli.
• How do you see the impact of poetry on contemporary reality? And how will its future be?
•• Where there is singing, there is poetry. I love Ghazi Al-Qusaibi's viewpoint that poetry is an end, not a means. Therefore, we should not expect poetry to do anything; poetry is a mold in which the effect occurs, and not a subject of influence.
• Why did you not lean towards prose as a sanctuary for the monks of the poetry of events?
•• Habits are overpowering, as Abu Hayyan Al-Tawhidi says in "The Enjoyment and Companionship," one of my favorite books. My favorites are also rich with many prose poems. I do not differentiate between any of the types of poetry, but I write in meter more because I am accustomed to it.
• What addition do poetry competitions offer to the poet aside from material gains?
•• A broader step forward in the field of fame, the thrill of surpassing competitors is an opportunity to review the experience.
Personally, I almost surrendered my soul to narrative writing, had it not been for a poetry competition that brought me back to the fortress of poetry.
The fruits of this experience are still ripe; I reap them in the eyes of poetry lovers and followers here and there, and it has positively reflected on my journey, bringing me out of my isolation into the arena of interaction.
It has given me a different perception of the audience of poetry and its friendly relationships, with every poet having poetic ambition, and it has enhanced the responsibility towards presenting poetry with greater care, taking talent seriously. The competitions gifted me a large audience of lovers of Arabic poetry from Mali, Ivory Coast, Niger, Nigeria, Senegal, Ghana, and all over Africa, in addition to the Arab world and the Gulf, and they gifted me their love and pride. My family, in particular, recognized the value of having their son write poetry and felt a sense of pride...
• What does homeland mean to the poet?
•• The poet's homeland is where he does not have to use GPS to reach his home or a café where he meets his beloved.
• What is your comment on the saying: "Al-Fitouri left his mark on African poets"?
•• I love Al-Fitouri's poetry, and I hope that African poets writing in Arabic will follow his creative path. I think he still has little influence on non-Arab African poets compared to other pioneers of modern poetry, for reasons related to media shortcomings.
• Who do you read today among the poets of the Kingdom?
•• I read all the poets of the Kingdom, regardless of their generations and backgrounds, including the popular poetry present in my reading list...
Saudi poetry is characterized by diversity and abundance; it is written in Al-Ahsa with the fronds of the Khulasi palm, in Jazan with the jasmine blossoms, it is carved on the rocks of Tabuk, folded and published in Hijaz, and its themes are not confined by the boundaries of the desert...
The last poetry collections I read were by Mohammed Sidi, Abdullah Bella, Huda Al-Mubarak, Mohammed Khidr, Iyad Hakmi, Tarek Al-Sumaily, Ibrahim Mubarak, Mohammed Ibrahim Yaqub, Abdullah Naji, and other wonderful poets.
• When did your family move to Mecca?
•• My father migrated from Timbuktu towards the Qibla in his early youth, walking on foot. He spent years on the road of his journey before he settled in the port of Jeddah and then established himself in Mecca, intending to be near the Sacred Mosque. This was during the reign of King Saud, may God have mercy on him. As for my mother, my grandfather took her to Mecca when she was a child.
• Where were you born?
•• I was born in Mecca, in the neighborhood of Jirwal.
• What does memory hold from the alleys of Mecca and childhood friends?
•• Just as the Zamzam well flows with the eternal story of water, the details pour forth, resistant to drought and forgetfulness. The neighborhood in Mecca is vibrant with life and events, noise, chants, and occasions, intertwining the social fabric, and not a day passes without a happy incident or its opposite. The titles given to each individual have the weight of legend in memory, thus preserving the "calls of the warm alleys"... massive records lie on the shelves of my memory, which I lean on and seek solace in. Every cell in my being sprouted from the breaths of the beings of Mecca. The flood of scents, the neem trees, moments of catching the nabq fruit, the group of friends, the silent and shy flirtation, the anxious gazes of the "yabats" (the musicians), the seasons of pilgrimage, the householder's pigeons picking grains in the mornings of the sanctuary, just as friends pick the seeds of loyalty from the corners of my heart, and the voice of Fawzi Mahsoun calling with Talal, "Oh people of the sanctuary, return my soul to me." I grew up in Jabal Ghurab, my youthful steps rolled down the slope of Jabal Hindi, I hid the secrets of adolescence in Jabal Omar, and in every slope and curve, I had a companion... Oh, may your bliss endure forever.
• What are the springs of the first well?
•• I find no shame in saying: television; which held the child by the collar with the programs of the first Saudi channel, the sources, our beautiful language, the series "The Night Player"... etc. Also - by good fortune - my family was interested in books and arts. Drawing notebooks and oil colors scattered in the living room, and there were books, stories, and music tapes continuously entering the house... My father teaching me the letters of the alphabet, enrolling me in Quran memorization, and then studying later at Al-Soultania School, the oldest school in Mecca, whose story is famous.
• How can a child preserve and retain their mother tongue amidst the multiplicity of languages and dialects?
•• Language is a precious treasure, and the more languages you add to your awareness, the broader your understanding becomes. A friend of mine, an Arab living in France with a Portuguese wife, told me that they agreed not to speak to their son except in their mother tongues, so the child grew up mastering three languages through exposure.
• What sparked the flame of poetry in your soul?
•• Jealousy... A classmate in the first year of middle school wrote poetry and received praise and encouragement, so I thought: why can't I do it too?! That incident was the first spark, for which a school environment prepared, characterized by serious activity, and teachers who appreciate talents and reprimand neglect as much as they reward care.
• Who nurtured this talent in you, and how did they nurture it?
•• My older brother used to mock every sentence I wrote if it did not meet the conditions of poetry. When I wrote my first metered verses, he told me: you are starting to find your way.
• Does the cultural and civilizational heritage of Bamako have an impact on shaping your sensibility and poetic taste?
•• Bamako, the capital of Mali, is a city located on the banks of a great river, with a rich history. The name of the city in one of the local languages means "the back of the crocodile," indicating a deeply symbolic cultural significance. If you wander through the streets of the city, you are greeted by various and wonderful statues of cultural and intellectual figures such as the African activist (Kwame Nkrumah), the (Palestine Monument), and the mural of (Mohammed Al-Durra). You might also see a huge football statue surrounded by symbols of African nations, or a sculpture of an elephant, a hippopotamus, a peace flame, soldiers, or a woman mourning her children... Each sculpture holds a story. In addition to the museums and libraries of manuscripts and artifacts, and the cultural palace that houses a hall named after (the great Malian writer Amadou Hampâté Bâ), who said: "The death of an elder in Africa is like the burning of a whole library." From there, you will pass through the street vendors of books to reach the artists' market opposite King Faisal Mosque in the city center, where the sweet melodies of (Ali Farka Touré), (Oumou Sangaré), and (Salif Keita) resonate, carrying words that encapsulate wisdom and poetry. I must sharpen my senses to fill the pool of my emotions with new poems, overflowing as soon as I open my mouth or take the pen in my hand.
And the most important cultural legacy in Bamako is represented by the Malian intellectuals who studied Arabic and mastered it, enriching the specialization in universities and institutes in Mali, and making remarkable Arabic contributions, in a quest that is not strange to the massive heritage produced for centuries in Timbuktu and Gao during the Islamic empires that the region witnessed, whose influence extended throughout the continent before the colonizer dipped his finger into the broth.
• Do you wait for poetry or do you take the initiative to go to it?
•• The poet often experiences astonishment, almost disbelief that these specific words came from him, and forgets the moments he spent arranging the words according to these deep meanings and dazzling images, wondering in surprise: Did I really write this?! I wait for poetry; sometimes it comes in the form of a suitable place to write, or a tear I cannot hold back when confronted with sadness, or in the form of a recurring dream. Only occasion poetry is what I seek, and I strive to find it, thus it goes dry where the foam goes.
• How much time does poetry grant before it reaches the ears?
•• I trained myself not to publish the poem immediately after finishing it; rather, I leave it for a day and a night so that there isn’t too much hesitation left in my soul, although I lack the patience for review and editing. I lean towards the suspicion of improvisation, for true art; what reaches the recipient is stained with the dust of the soul...
• Who is the first person you share your text with when you are confident of their opinion?
•• I love that friend with whom the formality has fallen away; he does not think twice before telling me, for example: your text is like your face. So I know then that I have not written a poem worthy of publication.
• What remains of the apartment of freedom that brought you together with the poet Ibrahim Hassan and others?
•• Perhaps I would give a year of my life for just one hour from the days of the apartment in Jeddah with Barhoum, my friend who repeatedly saved me from repetition and the shifting sands of imitation. I saw in his company how a poet lives poetry; the walls of the apartment, in an old building on Palestine Street, we learned that the master of the desert, Mohammed Al-Thubaiti, lived in the same building 15 years before us. A gallery containing global paintings, I don’t know where Ibrahim brought them from! The energy of the apartment was intensely dense and light, the humidity and invasions of bugs did not disturb the tranquility of friendship, reading, silence, and tea. Books are precious, Barhoum, don’t worry, we will find something to eat, then we will spend all our money on Dostoevsky, Chekhov, Henry Miller, Amjad Nasser, Adnan Al-Sayegh, Anaïs Nin, Toni Morrison, Rilke, and complete works of poets whose strange names Barhoum surprises me with! Hundreds of books, films, and excerpts, through which I claim that Ibrahim and I were well established, in that bustling apartment we shared encouragement and motivation, and many laughs... It left a considerable stock of seriousness in dealing with literature, and broad discussions we reserve for our upcoming meetings about "the lost time."
• Where does poetry take you, and where do you take it?
•• I am merely a young man discovering poetry; it takes me to the most authentic area of existence; to the vastness of belonging. I do not know the nature of the destination, but my intuition feels some light... and I take poetry to the time of lapis lazuli.
• How do you see the impact of poetry on contemporary reality? And how will its future be?
•• Where there is singing, there is poetry. I love Ghazi Al-Qusaibi's viewpoint that poetry is an end, not a means. Therefore, we should not expect poetry to do anything; poetry is a mold in which the effect occurs, and not a subject of influence.
• Why did you not lean towards prose as a sanctuary for the monks of the poetry of events?
•• Habits are overpowering, as Abu Hayyan Al-Tawhidi says in "The Enjoyment and Companionship," one of my favorite books. My favorites are also rich with many prose poems. I do not differentiate between any of the types of poetry, but I write in meter more because I am accustomed to it.
• What addition do poetry competitions offer to the poet aside from material gains?
•• A broader step forward in the field of fame, the thrill of surpassing competitors is an opportunity to review the experience.
Personally, I almost surrendered my soul to narrative writing, had it not been for a poetry competition that brought me back to the fortress of poetry.
The fruits of this experience are still ripe; I reap them in the eyes of poetry lovers and followers here and there, and it has positively reflected on my journey, bringing me out of my isolation into the arena of interaction.
It has given me a different perception of the audience of poetry and its friendly relationships, with every poet having poetic ambition, and it has enhanced the responsibility towards presenting poetry with greater care, taking talent seriously. The competitions gifted me a large audience of lovers of Arabic poetry from Mali, Ivory Coast, Niger, Nigeria, Senegal, Ghana, and all over Africa, in addition to the Arab world and the Gulf, and they gifted me their love and pride. My family, in particular, recognized the value of having their son write poetry and felt a sense of pride...
• What does homeland mean to the poet?
•• The poet's homeland is where he does not have to use GPS to reach his home or a café where he meets his beloved.
• What is your comment on the saying: "Al-Fitouri left his mark on African poets"?
•• I love Al-Fitouri's poetry, and I hope that African poets writing in Arabic will follow his creative path. I think he still has little influence on non-Arab African poets compared to other pioneers of modern poetry, for reasons related to media shortcomings.
• Who do you read today among the poets of the Kingdom?
•• I read all the poets of the Kingdom, regardless of their generations and backgrounds, including the popular poetry present in my reading list...
Saudi poetry is characterized by diversity and abundance; it is written in Al-Ahsa with the fronds of the Khulasi palm, in Jazan with the jasmine blossoms, it is carved on the rocks of Tabuk, folded and published in Hijaz, and its themes are not confined by the boundaries of the desert...
The last poetry collections I read were by Mohammed Sidi, Abdullah Bella, Huda Al-Mubarak, Mohammed Khidr, Iyad Hakmi, Tarek Al-Sumaily, Ibrahim Mubarak, Mohammed Ibrahim Yaqub, Abdullah Naji, and other wonderful poets.