By Faleeha Hassan

Faces of love  

Do not carry me in your hand
Like a small bird wet with rain drops
Love is a traumatic experience
But I want to live it
To keep my windows overlooking the lake of the pink dolphins
When the evening comes
They will start dancing for me
And clouds will bunch across the ceiling of my kitchen
Love is a mysterious experience
I would like to sing to your photo
Which I keep under my pillow
But my voice is not suited for singing
Even my bed sheets are still laughing  
Whenever I wash the dishes and I think of you
The lather dances between my hands
Yes, love is a dangerous experiment
But I will live it  
Because I’m afraid of continuing my life
With the furniture trembling from the intensity of loneliness

My home is contaminated by war

We were
As a night that had lost her light bulbs
We wore our disappointments
Split ourselves from grief
War veterans……
Moving between the blows of history
Without any glimmer of victory
And we became
Addicted exiles
Jumping between fragments
Searching for a straw of hope
Our land is not for us
Not even our blood
Our fatalities oscillating between the fingers of tyrants
We Southerners
Are busy preparing ourselves for departure
Horrific fantasies colonize our dreams instead of spring trees
This is a time of war storms
All roads are barren
Every street hit by drought
But we are still walking
And walking
You can see clearly
Our footprints in the desert send

faleeha hassan

About the Author:

Faleeha Hassan is a poet, teacher, editor, and writer born in 1967 in Najaf, Iraq. Now she lives in the United States. She got a master’s degree in Arabic literature, and published sixteen collections of poetry in Arabic, including a collection of poems for children. Her poetry was translated into English, Turkmen, Bosevih, Indian, French, Italian, German, Kurdish, Spanish and Albanian. She has received numerous awards for her writings. Her poems and her stories have been published in different American magazines, such as Philadelphia poets 22, Harbinger Asylum, Brooklyn Rail, The Galway Review, Words without Borders, and many others.