Poetry

December 12, 2017 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Casey Meshbesher photo

 

By

Ahmad Al-khatat

 

 

 

The Blood of Flowers

 

 

I live a life surrounding lines

The purest air is now toxoid

My choices are quite down

I had to breathe of the sinner

Since then I am always wrong

 

Visible mouths smoke cigars

Bring tears and dark bubbles

Cause I recall my father smoked

His suicide from the same pack

Of lung cancer that I shared with

 

Can’t get enough spring below the

Lost garden and the blood of flowers

The woman who caused the moon

It’s the first hostage and last destiny

In the road to the emergency room

 

Oprah drinks of the sweet water and

Dies and nobody stays by his dreams

The guns of Baghdad have chosen me

As the body deserves the death penalty

I wonder who moved my beats of my heart

 

 

 

 

I Have One Kiss

 

 

I have one kiss to my religious prophet

Who offers me a religion in forgiveness

And peace with myself and to others

I am who I am I love you for the way

You are and not the way others judge

You for the freedom of speech they own

 

I have one kiss to the running tears

For making some of my dreams true

For offering me a beautiful woman

Who taught me a lot about myself

Who showed me the realistic me

And stopped me from digging a hole

 

I have one kiss to my lifetime queen

For making the rain into a symbol for

Bliss and blessings and not a day worth

My death and creating above my mind

A little daughter running ‘tween the borders

Of Guatemala and Iraq happy forever

 

I have one kiss to the writer about love

For making him into a sweet and pure

Tree with green branches and loving

Fruits to taste and making alcohol to

Drink all the leaves to get drunk later

And wake up with a bigger sunny smile

 

I have one kiss to the sea of no regrets

And mini kisses to the grain of salt in it

Who helps the refugees to sail safer and

alive to a greater land to their little kids

And adults as well, and leave their worth

To start a life facing the face of racism

 

I have one kiss to the church and temple

For letting me praying to my God without

Holding weapons behind my head with a

Question if I am Christian, Jew or Muslim

And accepting me the way I am myself and

Didn’t ask me questions to change my belief

 

 

 

 

Secrets In Death

 

 

I hate crying for any reason

But when I think about you

And miss nobody but you

 

I fall in love with my tears

Because every drop owns

A scent of times we shared

 

I adore talking to your shade

That I could create it nearby

Your tomb that ends our love

 

Tonight, I will pull the trigger

To fold our romantic story for

No reason and burn the pictures

 

This life can’t bring you back

A lover like me suffers till death

And jokers will still ignore me

 

My poetry is not readable cause

My wounds are growing up and

I’m the young and drunk sailor

 

Sailing over my blood and tears

Witnesses see me and never give

Me a napkin to feel the blessings

 

I will finish drinking my aches and

Get myself drunk with a bit of pain

Maybe, I shall smoke a cigar to die

 

Like a homeless on the dirty street

Nor like my poor grandpa who died

In his house alone by the dusty bed.

 

O God why I’m suffering with a broken

Heart that beats like a weeping clown

Let today be a greatest day to breathe

 

Life and forgive all haters and forgive

The cause why do I feel powerless with

Or without someone to trust my keys with.

 

 

 

 

Cold Hands

 

 

It’s cold outside and I’m

On my own with cold hands

By the car lights and terrific

Yet, you are still in my mind

 

Nobody wants to hear me

People are busy with their own

Daily routine and bit of problems

And I’m weeping for missing you

 

The winds blow lots of leaves

And the autumn clouds drop rain

With lovers dance under the moonlight

While I’m singing to all the stars

 

The street gets less busy and

Kids sleep on grandparents, old tales

Meanwhile, I’m drawing of your perfume

And smiling from your smiles in pictures

 

I prepare myself a warm cup of tea

With a few cigarettes left in the pack

I smoke and write about the days we loved

I warm my lips to recall your words

 

One thing keeps me stronger is that

You are in paradise and it feels good too

See you beautiful without makeup nor

Tears from all the years I waited to kiss you

 

 

 

 

 

Ahmad Al-khatat

Ahmad Al-Khatat was born in Baghdad on May 8th. From Iraq, he came to Canada at the age of 10, the same age when he wrote his very first poem back in the year 2000. He also has been published in several press publications and anthologies all over the world and currently studies Political Sciences, at the Concordia University in Montreal. He has recently published his first chapbook “The Bleeding Heart Poet” with Alien Buddha Press. It is available for sale on Amazon. Most of his new and old poems are also available on his official page Bleeding Heart Poet on Facebook. 

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