The fig tree by the house with no backyard
Always welcomed me
It was comforting and warm
Teaching me
A child I was
Not knowing death nor life
It taught me eternity
The fig tree in my grandmother’s house
Will always live within me
All articles filed in poem
Heaven
Some days I crave a sun so bright
Instead of Memphis rain
And people that can say my real name
Some days I feel my skin turning back
A darker shade close to black
And I hear my roots calling me home
But most days I know I am not alone
In feeling so far away from home
We’re all immigrants after all
Waiting for the call
To return to heaven
Ancient Lullaby
Windows open
Rain is singing me an ancient lullaby
Here I lay
Listening
As mother nature reminds us all
How drops so small
Can cause a flood as they fall
How little things matter
Important Announcement!
Hello friends, reader and fellow writers!
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.
Walking Desert
I never thought it a desert
Nor did I ever judge the sands
I thought it a home
That I could hold in the palm of my hands
Sticking to my curly hair
And the shoes I wear
I became a walking desert
Completely unaware
Of the sands of my people
Clinging to my form
I wore as proudly as a soldier
Wearing his uniform
Stranger Paths, The Book
Stranger Paths, The Magic in The Madness Poetry Collection is now available on Amazon
This book contains three chapters, each starts with a short story about the author.
R.J. Zarkani, was born in Iraq and lived through the Iraq war which influenced her writing in unexpected ways. This book brings a unique perspective of the war from a child’s point of view. You can witness what she had witnessed and stand where she stood. Watching the bombs as she now watches fire works on 4th of July and you can know that you are safe.
Soldiers
I met a soldier back in Iraq
That let me hold his gun
He had named Darlene
I was barely fifteen
But he trusted me then
In a war zone when
A mistake could mean a life
I think God made poetry by keeping us alive
Slipping
Time is slipping away
And I hoped you would stay
But I’ll be slipping too
I wished you well
I wished you good
I’ve done all I know I could
But time
Is my enemy and time is my friend
I wished I could see it till the end
But time is slipping away
And I will be slipping too
Dictionary
You are more than
A name
A gender
A career choice
You are what’s underneath
Buried deep
And between a definition and another
The essence was lost
Let’s put it back together
And leave definitions for those
Unsure of who they are
I find no need for man-made
Dictionaries
Powerful
Sometimes
I forget that I can change the channel
That I have the power
Sometimes
I forget that I am
Powerful
