Good Morning

I wake up on my alarm clock,
It doesn’t say to me good morning
I drink my first cup of coffee,
It doesn’t say to me good morning
I eat my first bites of bacon,
It doesn’t say to me good morning
I see my same old neighbour,
he doesn’t say to me good morning
I take the bus to go to work
Nobody says to me good morning
I arrive at work, my coworkers
and customers don’t say good morning
I am so lonely that I forget to say
to the photos in my office good morning

My Surname is The Night

I once applied to work for a company,
the manager saw my surname and asked
the meaning behind my first name
I answered him that it means that during the
night I live as a joyful person in the rain,
and realize that I am not lonely when I cry
nowadays, my name is the night itself,
due to my daily sorrows that rise with
the presence of the moon along with the stars
my spirit becomes the star that lights
my path to a broken heart, walking back home,
my eyes become the autumn season that rains
yet, nobody has a moment to listen to me,
the sightless flowers whisper to the deaf branches
as I want to wipe my falling tears, but I have failed
I see death play as the responsible adult
As we low human being’s, destroy
each other’s bodies to mangled beings
the reason that holds the night as my name
is to rest the children’s mind of poverty, the
river of blood, and the imaginary of an endless war

City of Joys

My days are like dry leaves,
they are everywhere and
always in the corners of
Sorrowful streets, in the city of joys
Every love story dies in my dreams,
people are more hurtful than before
And the night is longer than what they say
life is short so drink until you fall asleep
Nowadays my eyes wish to be blind
like the candle that celebrates marriages
and funerals, the sky watches and apologizes to
the clouds and rain, waiting until my eyes stop weeping
I will never understand how to smile
by the broken branches and dead trees,
My happiness will come back to me
after I drown my laughing face to death

Ahmad Al-Khatat. He 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 first poem back in the year 2000. He also has been published in several press publications and anthologies all over the world. His poems were translated into Farsi, Albanian, German, Chinese, and Serbian. And he currently studies Political Sciences, at Concordia University in Montreal. He recently have published his two chapbooks “The Bleeding Heart Poet” and “Love On The War’s Frontline”. 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.