Poems of Iraqi poet Kareem Abdullah,

 

1- In the breath of destiny

I felt you in the wind that caresses the sea,

in every wave that bows to the sky to touch your name.

My veins are rivers seeking your shore,

and my breath—a white horse—runs toward your dreams.

Among the stars, I have built a bridge of silence,

to walk toward you with steps of desire.

Do not fear the distance, nor the wait:

I am already on the horizon where you call me.

And when time casts its cloak over the evening,

you will find me there—

in the heartbeat you recognize as yours,

in the embrace that knows no bounds.

Kareem Abdullah - Irak 

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2- A hesitant laugh, its charm bottled in a jar.

She bowed her heart, heavy with memories, burying its sharp pains.

She buried the makeup of her life behind a bridge destined for an untimely death, and said goodbye to what fate had shattered in the pockets of caprices. It continues, in its sky,

the leaves of salvation hover, adorned with the stumps of tears.

And among its flowers, a hesitant laugh hides, amazed by the crowd of wrinkles.

A cacophony of yellow spreads through the joints of its thresholds, its moans suffocating it.

Who tied the wings of its tentacled dawn?

She shakes off the legacy of isolation and the air that suffocates her every time a dream caresses her hair, a dream that has abandoned her waking conversation.

And that cold touch, timidly hastening,

repeats itself in its distant circles.

A crack in her heart widens. 

Like a faceless fetus,

shattering everything else,

a warm whisper lingers beneath his dream-soaked clothes,

trembling with mourning. 

Throats of lament spill over his winter bed, tracing his bewilderment. He curls up under the tattered blanket of a time that sweeps away his tender flowers. 

His strings murmur of piercing ghosts escaped from his window. Many promises, like arrows, struggle impossibly among the branches of memory. 

The strings of calls grow hoarse, and the unconsciousness of estrangement devours his pain-stricken day. Grief wallows in the shards of his mirror, practicing anguish, burying his smiling yesterday in a thick crypt that dismantles the rebirth of the future. 

He entrusts his secrets, prodigal of disappointment, to the pillows of absence. 

Without permission, he refines the hammer of displacement. 

Her sleepy waterwheels, from the windows of her days, escape the tranquility of her imprisoned curtains, her enchantments locked in a bottle of suffocating expectation in unknown ports. In her voice, the exhausting distances are shortened in the neigh of femininity, while the topography intertwines in a mirror that has smuggled the collapse of flowers, thus a torpor creeps in, floating,

covering the skin of hope.

Kareem Abdullah - Irak