Poems Breathing Life in “The Last Hairstyle of Darkness” by Waleed Sanad

Yemenat

Mohammed Al–Mekhlafi

In the hairstyle,
You will find a bag fleeing from the memory of the market.
It flew and harmonized with the wind,
Knowing its destination better than all of us.
A song, caught in the sky, interrupted it,
So they sat together on a line of clouds,
Exchanging words that the earth understands only through the nostalgia of the gutters.

With this beautiful text, I begin my article on the poetry collection The Last Hairstyle of Darkness by the young Yemeni poet Waleed Sanad, hailing from the village of Bayt Ajaj. This village embraces the clouds in the heights of Kuhlan Al-Sharaf mountains in Hajjah Governorate. In one of his texts, he describes it as existing outside the map, known to the state only during the seasons of collecting zakat and taxes, as if it were a specter that appears in times of need and then vanishes.

The opening lines present a poetic image filled with symbols that touch the heart’s core. The escape from the memory of the market reflects a profound sense of loss and defeat in a society that no longer recognizes itself amid the chaos of change. The bag’s harmony with the wind embodies the quest for freedom that resides in every Yemeni, while the song caught in the sky highlights a flame of hope that does not extinguish even in times of war, illuminating the painful gap between warm feelings and harsh reality.

This collection was published by Sanad Publishing House in Sana’a in 2025, offering readers 157 pages of medium format that encapsulate the breaths of a poet who has lived through bitter realities and painted them with words seeking beauty in the heart of suffering.

A Reading of the Title’s Significance

The title The Last Hairstyle of Darkness carries profound and complex connotations, merging two contradictory elements: “hairstyle” and “darkness.” The word “hairstyle” opens up horizons of beauty and order, referring to a beautifying process concerned with enhancement and change. However, when paired with “darkness,” the meaning shifts to something deeper and more painful. Here, darkness embodies the suffering, loss, and disorientation experienced by the Yemeni people.

In this context, darkness is understood as a psychological state reflecting internal struggles and the despair that can envelop the soul. It represents those moments when we feel a crushing loneliness, where life resembles an incomplete hairstyle, lacking beauty and balance. In this “hairstyle,” beauty fades amid chaos, mirroring the harsh reality experienced by the poet and his community.

The word “last” in the title adds an additional layer of depth, signaling the end of something—be it a phase or a moment of pain. This ending may express resignation or acceptance, where the poet chooses to confront darkness rather than flee from it. The use of “last” raises painful questions about what it means to be at a turning point and how the consequences can be both agonizing and necessary for redemption.

Simplicity of Language and Depth of Meaning

Waleed’s style is characterized by a sincere personal voice that reflects his life experiences and profound emotions. He weaves his words in a simple yet impactful language, making him relatable to the reader, like a friend sharing his burdens. This collection—his debut work—takes us through his daily struggles as people live under the weight of war and loss. Yet, with artistic finesse, he combines pain and hope, offering the reader an opportunity to understand the challenges facing Yemeni society through the eyes of a poet who lives these details and translates them with a sensitive touch.

Diversity of Poetic Experience

The collection is divided into four sections that reflect the diversity of his poetic experience. The first section, “Prophecy of the Soil,” addresses the plight of the citizen and the bitter reality the country endures. The second section, “Individual Actions,” delves into emotions and sentiments marked by sorrow and human depth. The third section, “A Star and a Song,” explores feelings in a new light and tackles more realistic themes. Finally, the fourth section, “Texts on the Edge of the Poem,” discusses influential characters within the collection, adding extra depth to the concluding texts.

What stands out in this collection is the coherent arrangement of the poems, as each piece is indirectly connected to the one that precedes it.

What Lies in the Hairstyle?

You will find an unnecessary name, brought forth like a tattered bag carrying dust from the roads and maps leading nowhere, with no homeland. Here, the feeling of loss and disorientation is embodied in all its bitterness, where the name becomes a symbol of a jumbled life filled with painful memories and shattered dreams, as if the poet carries his identity as a heavy burden in a society that acknowledges him only as a number in tax records.

You will discover a song that has yet to learn ablution, and a girl evading her shadow, fleeing from the weight of her existence, and a mountain clutching the hem of a cloud, imploring it to rain upon his heart. These images reflect the internal struggle of the Yemeni people, where the desire for redemption and connection to something greater than oneself manifests. The song, yet to learn ablution, symbolizes purity and innocence that have not been tainted, while the girl fleeing from her shadow mirrors the anxieties of identity and existence that haunt an entire generation.

On the sidewalks, you will find corpses without shrouds, and on the buses, the dead with no destination—souls slipping from the eyes of passersby like questions escaping from the mouth of the night. Here, the harsh reality of death and absence is laid bare, reflecting the cruelty of life in a community that has lost much of its meaning. The corpses without shrouds represent martyrs stripped of their identity and dignity even in death, while the dead without a destination symbolize those lost in the chaos of life, where existential questions intertwine with the details of miserable daily existence.

I promise you will find things unknown to your heart, conversations that have never brushed your ears, and you will escape the absurdity of repetition like a bird evading a bullet’s path. These words carry a faint promise of liberation, opening new doors to knowledge and experience. Here, the poet underscores humanity’s ability to transcend pain and soar toward freedom, finding in each painful experience an opportunity for renewal and change.

You will ride the wave on a floating page, accompanied by the last vigil keeper, who does not sleep until the night is complete in his eyes, and the darkness is unfurled as a poem. In this conclusion, all elements converge to form a comprehensive human experience, highlighting the eternal struggle between hope and despair, urging the reader to seek meaning amid chaos.

In closing, with the skill of a poet who knows how to carve beauty from the heart of suffering, Waleed has succeeded in transforming daily pain into poems that breathe life, leaving the reader space for reflection. It is a journey within the self, where darkness ends to herald the dawn of a new day—not because it has vanished, but because we have learned to weave it with our own hands.

In Sana’a

In Sana’a,
light does not dwell in lamps;
it seeps from the breaths of the oppressed,
from the trembling hand seeking a loaf,
and from the tale of a worker wiping dust
from the face of the pavement,
sitting before his tools.

In Al-Sabeen,
the street reaches out to the gathered,
as if begging for the pulse
from bodies that have forgotten they are alive.

Al-Mesbahi, “The Light Keeper,”
does not carry light as the name suggests;
he passes like a thick shadow
tracing the city’s brow.

Al-Safiyah,
piles stacked high with scrap,
its name merely an elegant accusation;
to embrace it like the cafeteria “Mudhish”
and the tales of “Taha Al Janad.”

In Sana’a…
the dead! They are not in graves;
they are on the buses,
staring into the void with eyes that know the way
to nothingness.
There are no traffic signals they await to turn green
to cross,
and they do not realize that life has granted them
another minute of waiting in the noon’s congestion.
Everything here
breathes like a stifled gasp,
life is sold in installments,
and the soul burns in increments.