2020 Spring

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Poetry, written by Ali Taha Alnobani


A metallic alien object with plastic gaze

Without emotions, and no feelings

It holds tapered forceps and a magnifying glass

It runs on the empty street

Like a spooky ghost

Like an absurd robot

His eyes are round, red

His nose is crunchy squared

And his voice is like air when it comes from the hole of a sick object


Now he forbids meetings and life

He collects viruses and malicious objects

In our empty days

In our not completed spring

Nothing remains of the noise of our days except a pale screen

And a fading light burns eyes

Nothing remains of familiar speech except A rigid spokesperson claims intelligence and ingenuity

In a world filled with absurdity and idiocy

Leave me alone

The city has become a shroud of poems and beautiful songs

The streets curl around the cold minerals

Like a love that dies


We were there

Facing dangers

Enjoying adventures

We live or die

Until that thing came

From the craziness and madness

To plant us in the deaf rock

No blossom

No songs

No love, no burning


What does the insane object want?

Does he know that the end is like the beginning?

It lives inside us

We seek in life everyday

We are not afraid

we drink water and drought

But what kills us

It is you

O the enemy of life

everything escapes from you even the viruses and diseases

O revered fool

Like the prestige of destruction

And like the pathway interruption


Leave me alone

I would like to go to my destiny

Death is a very old story

I saw it a lot in the sad steps

In the frustration of traveling and stress

And in childbirth which mixed with crying

Death is a very old story brings me back to my mother where I grew up as spring


I collect all beautiful tales

From my dear sun

Then flowers shine in my eyes

And you

You are the killer of storyteller and the story

You are the maker of long funerals

And the maker of the tragedy with your damned lights with your shit screaming

And your false affection


Leave me alone to embrace the soil once

and embrace the stars other

I never signed on your chaos

I did not agree to burn my spirit in your damn hell

I am the poem of the earth and the sky

I am a hymn came to breathe freedom before the air



Corona virusDeath by Virusreal life stories#freedom#freedom #speak #opendoorsdream of freedomfreedom anywhere

◄ The Gipsy Clouds


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John Marks

Sat 11th Apr 2020 23:52

The words tumble out then line up into meanings. I like your style. It reminds me of Kurdish and Farsi poetry. It is very difficult to write poetry in a language that is not your mother tongue - you have done so. Congratulations.

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