Bringing Around - Poem by AbdelAziz Alhaider
Abdul Aziz Haider
Publication 1986 in the Journal of the Republic Baghdadiya
To the whisper that sat on my desk
And its strewn face papers
Pens, and Inkwell
To the whisper that poured from the jar of the full night
whisper that became a night cockroach To the
In my arid room
Or to the whispered tunes such as puff mixed the side of the curtain,
, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
• Are you finished?
• final glass..........
Usually I finish the cup at a defining moment
And throw a stone in the stream of silence
Belt my voice with rings
And listen again
To the whisper that boom in the bitterer boredom blood ...... In my fatal
As threads of spiders.. or smoke... is an illusion....... Or confused
And the heart is a virgin cocooned by the becoming
Ah, the blood is the light of rubies published in the depth of the cave of autism and existence,
Of from which face?
Which picture....? ? Coming to listen
I do not hear more than the laughter of immoral
Laughter's of the pretty girls dancing with the waves of the poem as pictures of wilted flowers
To the whisper of complicated dark...... the poem is listening... I listen
Away from the hearing
Away from the memory
Listen to the world under the pillow collected by the dream
Balled them to a pellet violated the ball of the memory
And explode it at the site of the wound....
Of tattered pictures scattered ….confused
- A last cup?
• Did you listen?
• Cup final
• It is usually in the loving to draw with the light
And make with their poems keys of the gates of their imposable expectations
And language - word - Witch Pictures
Away from the hearing nearby from memory
To my whisper……….from mine to mine
Listen to this clicks of the branches of the poem
As It is growing
Listen... and attract the dream and the memory
To die together.. In the critical point
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