Burn My Heart
Burn my heart
there is nobody
to judge you
Burn my heart
pour your love
over the flames
Burn my heart
I would choose
you to die with
Burn my heart
when sensation
arises on the way
Burn my heart
and colour my
ashes with tears
Burn my heart
and dance with
my name in your mind
Burn my heart
and lie about us
flying to paradise
Burn my heart
take the last train
to the hell situation
Burn my heart
and remember
you are a woman
Kills
What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It never stops flooding
and extends to my flesh
What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It appears from the shadow
of the sun behind the rain
What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It is the stranger who dies
after chasing the fireflies
What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
when the barefoot soldiers
bombed the house of dreams
What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It is the stone who breaks the
mirror of the river to the moon
What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It is the wheelchair who will
never take me to your doors
What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
when the world was young,
I was the oldest seed in spring
What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It is the blind who walked to
the wolves until they ate him
My Fingers are Damage
my eyes ask my mind why
I should watch those flying
birds go to the southern side
my mind responds with;
those birds are lucky they’ll
fly to heaven with broken wings
my mind asks my nose
why I smell more sorrows
from those flammable tears
my nose responds with;
those falling tears have lost
all the happiness I feel nostalgia for
my nose asks my ears
why I only hear everything
beneath the raining autumn clouds
my ears bleed and respond;
I hear crying children from the
orphanage during Christmas time
my ears ask my silent mouth
why I kiss more cigarette butts
then talk about my depression and anxiety
my mouth responds with;
I believe personal disorders are not
welcome to discuss with human beings
my right hand asks the left
why I still have faith and
when will happiness come over
my left hand responds to the right;
I am a fighter, knight, and a poet who
writes even if my fingers are damage
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.
a tight trio……..thanks