Crossroads Of Souls
It is the hour
of nostalgia and half of the green grass, the perfume of the flute's holes
swaying with a touch of your dewy fingers, the reeds groaning where it is a
source of spirit, so that its pulse returns empty as foam washed away by the
waves, over the plate of deaf rocks, so it recites its music with plateaus that
embrace the spices of India and Sindh, and Ortah wears the cacophony of the
sound of the wind, whenever it blows He has a bare feather on him, he cried
unconsciously, O beloved, you have come to milk the patient ant, and the
rebelliousness with your eyes rides the weights of the yard and crushes the
horses of hope.
Fears of panic
multiplied in the ovaries of the memory of days, and does nostalgia have the
zero hour?, Invading those white pages with my dust, while I am blown with the
Spirit of God and the stagnant mud?, To search for you at the crossroads of
souls without a cosmic map, or even an expired compass, pointing to a light
that has reached the threshold of the gates of the end Without starting at the
beginning..!
This is how I
pray the duty of love.. And you are the memory of growth crucified on the banks
of slumbering waterwheels.. You lavish on the overcrowded canyons with dreams
with a yellow smile.. She fell between the feet of the clouds as she practiced
her passion with raindrops..
In The Wind
The neighing of
empty horses
barren cloud..!
• In the wind
Orphan love
revolution
Disappointing
Banner!
• In the wind
The sultan of
the heart is homeless
Autumn leaves..!
• In the wind
Letters of light
wrinkled
Features of
absence..!
• In the wind
The melodious
scattering
Winter's
cooing..!
• In the wind
The noise of a
runaway look
sleepy eyes..!
• in the wind
Pour the cup of
wishes
golden
threads..!
• In the wind
I performed ablution
with the sound of swords
A grinding
war..!
• In the wind
Reproduced in
bright colors
Confused
cocoon..!
• In the wind
Blind fight law
Spanish bull..!
Here… I Am Alone…
Where the
stillness of silence touches me
No sociable
other than your whispers
that covered me
yesterday.
I caress the
traits of my loneliness
And turn the
pages of your laughter
which is still
drunk
hug me despite
the cold
Let's get up and
get up
From that blue
dream
The lights are
waiting for you
The door creaks
Damn that
window.
And I'm looking
for your wooden key
My fingers are
calcified
Zainab al-Ruh
did not come
Here.. I am
alone..
Avoid the yellow
clock
I will remember
you before sunrise
And the eyes of
passers-by.. kill me
That crazy pet
Didn't he learn
how to talk?
And death eats
from his heart..!
He is eating
from the soul of his shadow
And the shadow
shot him before the fall
...........!!
This killer
Exile deposited
me outside my temple
The funeral
prayer is behind me!!
Even though I do
ablution every day
Bundy chrysanthemums
and its anomalies
She bit my lips
Every moment a
thousand times..
And lick my
fingers
Reverse void
chant
Then the body
becomes imprisoned
I am the sultan
of her wild heart.
Leave my crown
and catch up
Civilization
wrapped under my ribs
We dance with
the wind....
We recite the
verses of annexation on a screen with its gaps
Rest atop
alluring peaks
And the lips are
looking for the night of the mole
She drinks from
the spring of her neck
....... What day
is this..?
How old is he..?
And the sound of
the call is empty.
My breath is
still felt
Pores of your
rage
frantic with
kisses..
O virgin, by
giving birth to the Spirit
And the first
bud opens
with the ecstasy
of the good news
Oh my only
light..
You have the
anchor sail..
And you are safe
Go on that
frenzy
Overcoming its
heedless waves
coffee sand
craving every step
cling to your
virginal lips
He hears the
lustful groaning of the heart
and curse after
long nights
ADNAN RIKANI
Dr. ADNAN AL-RIKANI,
born in 1971 in the city of Mosul. Iraq - Kurdistan Region. Poet and
journalist
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