Poetry

September 16, 2016 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Anja Niedringhaus

 

By

Ahmad Al-khatat

 

 

When Women Fall in Love

 

 

Isn’t it sad, when women fall in love,

They dated with the king of death,

They die after giving birth of a baby.

 

A few hadn’t felt the pain of pregnancy,

They are still healing from breast cancer,

And their men haven’t been around since.

 

In my city, couples eat and drink together.

Like two love doves filtering on the nest,

If they ever separate, they fall into miseries.

 

But in Baghdad women live with pictures,

Those photos are their beloved dead kids,

Who dreamed of attending their wedding.

 

Women see the darkness before the clouds,

While their men fight until the last breath,

She dreams of pink dreams, reality is miserable.

 

If my mother smiles my wounds start healing,

Since Baghdad sentenced me to move to exile,

And live and fight against Isis from my pen.

 

I gave up looking for sweet dreams and love,

Everyone is looking for one night stands for hours,

While my previous woman stabbed me mindlessly.

 

Everywhere I travel in this world is much different,

Teenagers start thinking about the old depression,

They are confused about what to love or dislike.

 

Some warm hearted women spend time working,

While their men do nothing losing money at casino,

Their girls walk into different rooms making cash.

 

Sadly, I remember a few women who were writers,

Writing the best novels about love and betrayal,

Realize that betrayal was a true story in lifetime.

 

Many men say that they are loyal and handsome,

Perhaps they have cheated with widows’ women,

And shot the innocent civilians in my country.

 

This time took me to different unknown directions,

I chose the one to die alone, far from my family,

I dig a grave without creating miseries for them.

 

When women fall in love, and they say I love you,

To the men, who died of loving them but they don’t

Have enough coins to buy them a giant dull prison.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Colorless Dream

 

 

A sinner spirit forced me to sleep,

With my flesh bleeding sins away,

On the pillow of my daily miseries,

And cover myself with a dead body.

 

I close my eyes and my heart too,

I dream with a colorless dream,

Believe me it was not a nightmare,

But a dark journey in my birth city.

 

Black dust from Baghdad funerals,

White fog to hide the broken wings,

I looked for my childhood house,

I sought the first love of my life.

 

I forgot to mention that I was blind,

I hear the moaning from the graveyard,

I made a vow to cry my blindness off,

And saw all the rainbow colors on her.

 

It starts from her golden long hair,

All the way down to her pinky toe,

I asked for a kiss from her red lips,

So, I could stop the flow of blood.

 

I discovered I was wrong about red,

I saw some women lose their virginity,

It created pleasure into a crime scene.

Two hearts died their emotions innocently.

 

Some humans swallow each other’s blood,

As if they were a soft drink from a straw,

My age of one hundred years of dusty grief,

It turned into a ten year innocent child old.

 

Knowledgeable about everything around me,

I could define the gold digger woman from

The one night stand lady before going to one,

I have been betrayed and lost the one I loved.

 

I realized I was the last solider to Free Baghdad,

From all gunmen, and all the mindless terrorists,

With only one old gun within one magical bullet,

Not terrified, but I believe violence brings violence.

 

I shot my bullet to the black clouds in real life,

To rain swords upon all criminals in this world,

My dreams got the colors back when peace arose,

And I died happily and went flying up to heaven.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ahmad Al-khatat

I was born in Baghdad on May 8th (1989). From Iraq, I came to Canada at the age of 10, the same age when I wrote my very first poem back in the year 2000. I currently study Political Sciences, and move on to study Journalism at the Concordia University in Montreal.

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