I craved it
The thing I hated the most
The dry hot air
The lack of clouds
The mosquitoes in my hair
I craved what I once wished to escape
Now living in a land where no palm trees grow
Where no one knows
How to say my name
Alien
Became I
Refusing to cry
Over my fortunes
I thought it magical
Surreal
That the night sky
Be filled with steal
And change to day
Flash after flash
Of the bombs falling my way
I thought it a beautiful end
To an uneventful beginning
The 13 year old is no longer begging
To stay alive
I think I was lost
In a maelstrom
When our eyes met
I didn’t even notice you
So I missed out then
On what we have now
Now that I’m no longer lost
Foggy morning
Tall grass
I lay awake
Raindrops covering my face
My roots grow to the sky
As I lie
Reaching to the God I can not see
Foggy morning days
Chill my bones
Foggy morning days
Call me home
And I dare not resist
Did you plant this vine
The one that poisoned your hand
Did you set it free in your garden, in your land
?
This poison that you can’t seem to find
Is crippling your mind
Like that vine
That someone else planted
When their entrance was never granted
But their thoughts slipped away
Finding roots in your bay
And you allowed them to stay
Cause you needed the company
Until your body was covered in a rash
And your mind started to dash
Across the negativity of their thoughts
Can you now realize
That you are not ill
That there’re poisonous plants, still
Lingering in your garden, in your mind
Rid away with them all
And stand
Strong
Once more
I rushed to meet the full moon
As I could finally see her face
A month of waiting could not be replaced
And as the moon turn around I knew
The rock looked much like you
My imaginary childhood friend
You survived this long
You were with me till the end
I wondered how your face was never changed
From Iraq to America
And somehow it did not feel strange
To befriend the moon
The ebook version of my book Stranger Paths, The Magic in The Madness is FREE on Amazon today and the next 2 days!
I would love to see it in your library and hear your thoughts about my journey from Iraq to America, from war to hope.
I hope you join the child I was, as she stood watching missiles brighten the darkness of her village, smiling as she hopes for a change. I hope you see the positivity leaking through my pages bit by bit as poems continue on. I wish to share the untold story of my people, of the civilians at war, of the children that had no choice but to accept their fate.
Our days are numbered but our numbers mean that we have survived so much, that we’re all the same.
I made a video to briefly describe my book for those more visually inclined.
My book can be found on Amazon in the link below
I had the pleasure of being interviewed by the one and only Ruth Anne Garcia !
She’s a wonderful book reviewer, beta reader, interviewer, mother, student, wife and best of all friend.
Please feel free to click HERE to be linked to the interview on her website
Here’s a snippet of the interview:
Ghost floated away from the body, but Soul decided to go the other way. As their person had his fill of oxygen and experiences on this realm. Ghost wandered seeing this old town a new. “I’ve never seen this mountain or those trees before.” Thought Ghost to himself. Colors were brighter and smells were stronger. Time seemed like an ocean with many rivers attached. Ghost’s person was a child… no a man… no no he was a fetus with a plan! Ghost saw the life he’d been through and many others plain and clear, he thought it was his overactive imagination… could this be a memory of what he’s never dared to dream?
Soul however, she was not so attached to this realm, actually…she wasn’t attached to any realm. She swept between screen after screen of what life could have been. She was heading upwards with purpose and she was not to be stopped. Soul was so light, much lighter than her other… her what you can call “brother” … what you can call Ghost.
Soul always hated that they were mistaken for each other, her and her “brother”. Their person never knew them fully, sure he stared at the mirror many times, before dates, after long days and sometimes just to appreciate his body. He saw Ghost more than he saw her… and she felt left out most of the time. Although; come night time she journeyed as far as she could without breaking the golden thread. Oh, how she hated that golden thread. The big voice always reminded her of the golden thread. “200,000 miles left on your thread.” It would say. “You must slow down or you’ll stray.” It reminded Soul.
Soul was respecting the golden thread as much as she could, but today she’s finally free. No more threads holding her back, she flew as fast as she could. Oh, how good it feels to not worry about that golden thread. Even though she’s sure of her person’s departure, she hesitates sometimes while flying. A memory of that thread haunts her head until the Voice says loudly: “You are free, come back to me and tell me all you have learned.”
Ghost was there for the funeral, he was confused of why the adults cried like children. He flinched before going through a wall, then he made it a point to go through every wall in the funeral home. He scared a few cats for laughs then he respectfully stood by his person. Ghost wondered who that person is now, now that his sister, soul, is gone. Who is this person laying in that coffin? People came close, “too close” thought ghost. They told stories that Ghost remembered fondly. At that moment Ghost insisted on going back to the body but soul had left… no strings attached, he remembered.
Ghost thought, I need to find the other… our third maybe then I can convince Soul to come back. Ghost thought he needed a tailor with golden threads!
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Image credit HERE!
Stranger Paths 