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 Poetry
Forget
I wondered if he’d forgotten
As we fell from the sky
As our form touched the sands
And our being materialized
I wondered if I too will forget
The reason I chose this body
Will I soon regret
The heaviness it brings
As gravity sinks
It’s teeth into my bones
Then I blinked twice
And I remembered
Nothing
After my first cry
Foggy Mornings
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
Poisonous Plants
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
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
The Moon
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
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.
