Ommi Theatre

Joined
Newcastle, Australia

User Stats

Profile Images

User Bio

Ommi Theater is seeking to open and to call for a dialogue about people's life in diverse cultures, time and location, personal narratives, lived experience “lived memory”, life arts and digital media in our performances.
Ommi Theatre is a collaborative theatre between and among Young people, Community projects and professional creative development in performance. It focuses on social, political and cultural narratives in performance.
Ommi is working towards creative, artistic and social collaborations with diverse communities cross Australia in multiply forms of expression.

N .J

It’s raining now!
By Niz Jabour
Poetry...
Where tears talking:
In the mid of the day, where the sun burning death and fear
In the mid of nowhere, where exiled soul given birth
In the mid way to your ear and distant of listening,
there are two tears
talking
One with lots of happy stories
One with lots of sorrow stories
Both are a lighting loudly,
And together laughing.
In the mid way, to the last step, leaving home,
Where is home and why is home and what is home;
In the mid of nowhere, to a silent history
there are two tears joking.
Once with every things, in silent, slept alone
Once with nothingness, lighting with happiness
Once with little greed’s to acknowledge, seeking knowledge
Were together, walking in "a" history, never departs
Unless you have, a fire or you touched by the fire
Oneness comes, like two tears walking.

Not Yet
To my brother Wafi,
You are not the sunset to disappear yet, nor departed being or end of exile.
Somewhere, holding hands together like shadows with white masks.
What to follow now or next?
Not disappeared yet, hope spoke loudly, not yet
Not departed yet, soul shouted lightly, not yet
What to follow then?
Far is home, so far and here is far too
No home yet
Far is the beloved, so home.
What is home and what to follow now or next?
I drank from the glass of always happy
Not sorrow, not lost yet
the fire around
In the narrow line between the grasses, in the pathway to somewhere,
there is a trace of a story, a passenger passing by.
Cities and children burning in my hands and what is left in my hand. Crying rivers for tears, drying rivers and what to take with you for drying river
Naked Rivers, like life, like you, like me,
I was walking alone in the street,
No light there, just leftover fire
I so a shadow in the street, a shadow like you, likes me
I saw a broken umbrella near the bus stop, a broken umbrella and alone!
What to do in late nights alone

External Links

Following

  1. Betty Martins