Winds and Memories

This familiar wind

Hot and dry

Carrying pieces of my old self

As it hurries by

And smells that no longer exist

Perfumes no money could buy

This familiar wind

Carries pieces of my old river

Euphrates

Reminding me of nights spent together

Eating ice cream

Watching the candles light up the stream

Making wishes

Dreaming a dream

This wind passes much too quick

And I rush looking for a jar

Or a bottle

I want to save you

For my selfish reasons

And trap you

Like the memories that trap me

In a place that I no longer know

If it still exists

If it could resist

The bombings and the shootings on a small town

How could you, wind, turn this around

And take me to a moment of peace

As I float

Another piece

Of history

That no one remembers

Organic matter

That’s easily recycled

Easily blended

Easily camouflaged

Between the wind and the sand

I reach out my hand

As if to hold yours

My old self

You did good

You escaped that neighborhood

Where no child, or adult

Was safe

Where bombs did not discriminate

Stuck between love and hate

You soared far

And maybe you have the winds to thank

Or a God somewhere

Watching a dreaming child

And allowing her to yet dream

Oh how these dreams have changed

How your life has changed

Old self

You did great

Alien Hopes

I was hoping for an alien invasion

Maybe then

The question of

“Where are you from? “

Could be easier answered

And I could say

“Earth”

And no one would follow with

“But where were you born”

I was hoping for an alien invasion

So I could no longer be called an alien

Such as my luck

No alien cared to make my hopes true

And I still look at you

Unable to speak

The language I grew up

Speaking

The Moon

I rushed to meet the full moon

As I could finally see her face

A month of waiting could not be replaced

And as the moon turn around I knew

The rock looked much like you

My imaginary childhood friend

You survived this long

You were with me till the end

I wondered how your face was never changed

From Iraq to America

And somehow it did not feel strange

To befriend the moon

Walking Desert

I never thought it a desert

Nor did I ever judge the sands

I thought it a home

That I could hold in the palm of my hands

Sticking to my curly hair

And the shoes I wear

I became a walking desert

Completely unaware

Of the sands of my people

Clinging to my form

I wore as proudly as a soldier

Wearing his uniform