Self Publishing

Today marks the first day of my book being LIVE!

 

Stranger Paths, The Magic in The Madness Poetry Collection Paper back can now be ordered on Amazon ! I am beyond excited!!!

Click Here for to be linked to Amazon

I designed the cover using Photoshop and a photograph I had taken on a beautiful foggy winter day. Used KDP to self publish and here we are!

If you have any questions about self publishing, do not hesitate to ask!

This book is 10 years in the making, maybe longer.

Starting from the Iraq war and my childhood, to moving to America and living the best life I could.

It is a spiritual journey about war, hope, and inspiration.

Reviews so far describe it as:

To list a few

I am overwhelmed with community support and so grateful to be a part of this world.

A world where an Iraqi woman can have a voice. This is so much bigger than a book being published!

Unique

The little girl didn’t like to wear

Her curly hair

She wanted to fit in

I could dye my hair

But I can’t seem to change the color of my skin

Wish I could go back to say

You’re beautiful just the way

God created you

Perfectly

Unique

Safe

There
She locks away her treasures
There
She attempts to feel safe
Burrowing
Covering herself in leathers
The fairy tries to blend in
For she’s the last of her race
And she refuses to give in
Trap waiting
Sit still
And you will win

Vulnerable

She knew she had to shed her skin
Had to be born a new
And in this vulnerable state
There’s not much she could do
To ward off the monster in the lake
There she waited
Contemplating her grave mistake
Waiting
For a new shell to form
Her fairy uniform

Hungry

The vultures hoped for a death

As the snow filled the road

And I

Standing by

Watching it unfold

Dare I contribute to their happiness?

Dare I provide them with their next meal?

The vultures remained hungry

We could not close the deal

Shade

The farmer passed on

But the trees he planted lived on

Giving shade to those who don’t know his name

Feeding men and animals all in the same

Seed that he grew

Many years ago

Average

“You must be rich!”

Said the little boy

“You have a house all to yourself

You get water on command

And your house has lights on even during the day!”

I replied unimpressed:

“No, I’m just an average American.”

Heal

Breathe deeply

Hug a tree

Listen quietly

To the passing breeze

Touch the earth

Feet bare

Peace and health

Is waiting there

You but need to let it in

For your healing to begin

Source Unknown

The meaning is lost

The tracks are fading with the rain

The world doesn’t know her name

Yet she lives

In the meaning they assign

The words get redefined

The prophet becomes a poet

Writing notes

Passing time

And forgets her real power

After all

It’s rare to empower

A child with a pen

Channeling the source within

So they cite her teachings

As source unknown

Forgotten

She wished for a fallen angel

Curious for how it would feel

But we were all angels

Before we fell down here

She must be an old soul

Many reincarnations ago

She forgot to remember

What her newborn already knows

Cheap

She had nothing left to give

Not of her body nor soul

Drained

She could give no more

But a smile

As faint as it might be

A smile

That’s all he needed to see

Never had they known

A medicine

Made of a smile so small

And a healing

So cheap