Burn my Heart & Two other new poems by Ahmad Al-khatat

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.

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