A Pallet of Mixed Emotions

—Poems by Ahmad Al-Khatat, Montreal, Quebec, Canada

PAINTING YOU

I will be painting you below
the curious moon next to
a pallet of mixed emotions
with a brush full of feeling
The truth is I am a sad tear
and not a colour of rainbow
in your eyes all the colours
dance all over your canvas
I see the smile of yours truly
similar and the arrival of the
summer sunrise and feel the
thirst of your lips from the rain
Make me your model for a second
catch me with your will for an hour
my soul and eyes must be awake
to feel your touch like an angel kiss
And I will colour your moist
lips with a rare leaf from autumn
with your hair, I will draw the running
horses around your scent forever 

INSIDE OF MY DREAM

Inside of my dream


there’s a bird flying 


from one nest to an-


other, without wings
Inside of my dream


there’s a man holding 


a sign that says, I 


have serious cancer
Inside of my dream


there’s one refugee 

with tears of grief 


because he lost hope
Inside of my dream
t

here’s a young lady

smoking, and waiting


for the train to suicide
Inside of my dream


there's a black cat


staring at me, and 


waiting to the end of my dream

DEATH OF A POET

Tonight is calm but windy
It feels like someone is around
To murder the drunk man in the bar
Or maybe it will be the death of a poet

Perhaps that means I will die
Death will strip my spirit bare
To see my family and watch their tears
As I observe if my friends are the loyal ones

Unfortunately trust is lost to me
As I have deep sorrows inside my life
My eyes weep with tears flying as
Autumn leaves to the front door of my neighbour

Painful griefs draw my darkness below
The moonlight and colour me with colours
It will be the way to lift me up and be strong
As a flower dancing from the sensual drops of rain

I would love to envision my own funeral
Since there is wrong or right to observe the
Faces will be dark as a raining cloud or the other
Ones that smile as the rainbow is seen from my coffin 

IN THE CEMETERY

In the cemetery, I was standing on my knees,

reading verses of the holy book to the tombs

I was praying with tears on my cheeks


until the graveyard stopped me and asked me if

I was reading verses or reading sorrows 


with an emotionless face, he asked to repeat

I started reading again and his face was getting 


red as his eyes were dropping my unrhymed tears

he stopped me with anger and screamed out


why more griefs, why more death and less peace

I responded to him, why did hope sell us to traitors 


why life is struggling with us, why did the wars rape us 

shamelessly

we cried together as he was saying that he’s listening to


spirits weeping with us, as the clouds will rain again

he asked me again why our world is no longer bright, 


instead it’s full of darkness and lots of bloody cuts

our grandparents were the farmers who lifted the sunshine 


and brunt themselves to death, just to protect the seeds

our mothers stole the moon from the wall of the night 


they hid in their coffins and the stars after our fathers

turned the rainbow into a solider in the zone of death 


and made the snow into a drinkable water to survive

SIGN OF A BITTER END

Next week,
I will be older than usual
Tuesday coming,
I will meet with a sign of a bitter end

Anxiety, depression, low self-esteem
Are in my mind and heart growing
With no strength to talk about them to anyone
I can't offer to meet with a psychological

I tattoo love, joys, and inspiration to
The people I love and to the ones that
Still have a death wish against me without
Realizing that I can't be happy anymore

In my days, I met with so many clowns
Some they taught me how to cry with
No falling tears, I have learned how to
Hold my broken heart like a homeless

I always wanted to live a life of a angel
No worries, no more stress from haters
I wish I could chose to live a quiet,
Simple, and basic survival of the day

I can never judge my life as wonderful
It's full of downs more than ups
Even though, I don't go to clubs or
Bars to meet with priceless bodies

I'm very sensitive and my friends stab me
As if I won't bleed by myself in darkness
My problem is I never appreciate my life
And I can't weep for my own griefs

The rain forces me to dance in the mist
Without the moon and the stars I see you
From the lights of my homeland in which
Death could observe well and not you

Five of my good friends passed away
I will be the sixth to reach them soon
But I can't because you are my true love 

I learned from you to be stronger than ever

 

ADOPTION

When I was a teenager


I donated to a little orphan


since then I made a vow that 


I would adopt her, and marry her
Days go by and nights come 


I learned how to hurt myself 


by doing bad habits that will 


guide me to die below the bridge
I lost count of my harmful cuts 


I lost all the joyful memories and 


moments from weeping beneath 


the lights of the miserable bar
My mother thought that I was well,


As my smile hid the tears that 


damaged my physical therapist 


within minutes after hearing me
I lost many chances and luck


until I met a broken heart,


she cried when she knew that I 


found what was missing of me
I found her 


between all of my poetry


between all of my cigarette smoke 


I tried to lose her


as I saw my shadow following her
Ann, you didn't adopted a regular girl


you have definitely raised one angel

that showed me life with colours


From your love and care for my princess
the grief inside of me has smiled when

your daughter kissed my salty lips and 


wiped my tears, hopefully she will


close my eyes after my smiling face rests

_____________________

Today’s LittleNip:

Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other.

—Rainer Maria Rilke

_____________________

Welcome, Ahmad Al-Khatat, to the Kitchen! Ahmad Al-Khatat was born in Baghdad, Iraq on May 8th, 1989. He moved to Canada with his family at the age of 10. He has been published in several press publications and anthologies all over the world and has poems translated into several languages. He has published two poetry books, The Bleeding Heart Poet and Love On The War’s Frontline which are available on Amazon (www.amazon.com/Bleeding-Heart-Poet-Ahmad-Al-khatat/dp/1977507972). Most of his new and old poems are also available on his official Facebook page, Bleeding Heart Poet (www.facebook.com/Bleedingheartpoet). He now lives in Montreal, Quebec. Thanks for your poems, Ahmad, and don’t be a stranger!

—Medusa

 Ahmad Al-Khatat

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