Nassire Ghadire

Rookie - 21 Points (1971/06/25 / Iraq-Kut)

Giant Infant World Collection Of Poems - Poem by Nassire Ghadire

Here you are
Stepping into things you don't know,
To touch the flower of truth
Only to touch it.
To dip your finger into the scent of the world
And die.

War is not funny, it's not easy either
It is simple, though;
You put life beside death
And find the real will.


Wrap your head with the fillet of illusion
And lie on the autumn yellow leaves,
Then, surrender to ultimate love,
And ultimate hate.

There is a fine crazy thread,
Between vision and thinking,
Don't sever it!
And still you walk on the sand of the time road
Naked hands, barefooted
Aimless like a fool wind playing with nowhere man's hair
Smiling to no faces, no mirrors.
Eat your cake of seconds or let them eat you
No matter.


Mysterious woman
Behind the window of your life years,
It's just your untouchable moments from your destiny.
Her glowing thighs are your after- life,
Smoking your mistakes, joys, tiredness and useless wisdom
While you are walking in your nihility.
A road in the valley,
A woman on the balcony,
A pink flower between tender thighs,
Golden honey on the nipple,
This is not beauty
It ‘s the misery of being,
The joy to miss the being.
Walking queue of keys,
From the sun to your eye.
A god and his goddess,
Hugging on your life screen,
It's beautiful and it's a useless journey.

Wisdom is very complicated, very simple,
That's why we need stupid language,
In a very intimate moment.
Let's take another position,
Let's ride, writhe, sway, twist, wave,
Or crash our bodies,
Let's melt ourselves in life's semen
And sleep.
Oh infant world, Oh youngster universe,
Spread your soul into my chest, into my lungs.
Oh giant infant world hug your hungry powerless boy.
Protect me… us,
Feed me… us with love,
Oh giant infant father.

The smoke in Baghdad from bottom to top,
From top to bottom,
The rocks on Baghdad,
Baghdad the giant bricks baby,
Breathe your blood and lick your injuries.

To liberate the flower,
To stand next to the moon before,
The desert of darkness,
To rescue the last kiss from oblivion,
To acknowledge the core of human knowledge,
To bring out the innocent child of the world,
To life,
To capture the flavor of the apple of existence,
Immortal ignoramuses, salute.

Hey Gilgamesh, Hey Anhidwana
Do you see what' has happened?
Can your bones that fused into the Iraqi sand, your dusty bones,
See our anonymous bodies?
These atomized brown bodies of your kids?
Can you still breathe under our oily, fleshy, bloody land?

No watch on your wrist,
Passing your life like a flame in a bottle,
Like a sun flare through a window,
It's not telling what's destiny nor making it.
Skiing on the grass of hours,
Chewing your lost kisses,
No watch on your wrist.

The stinger in your emotions is a song of life,
Song of winter hours,
Heavy sex of the flower,
A twisted sexy wind plays games with a child god,
His smell goes with scores,
His smile shrinks,
Do nothing but watch.

Dear audience,
Go home,
I will tell you nothing,
Poetry tells nothing,
The poet tells nothing,
He just dies.

Behind the tasty feeling of pride, there is that nostalgia,
To that wax like girl.
Behind your refusing dignity,
There is that flapping ancient bird wing,
Under that girl's flower.

Since 1971,
Walking the devil in the valleys of love;
Wrapping feelings with dailies,
Naming my life disasters,
Having sex with anonymous women,
And fuelling the right love.
Since 1971.

The bicycle is broken.
The car is too fast.
I love you very slowly.
You're coming tomorrow.
If you tell me: 'love',
One time, only one,
All the way down the country road to you,
I will arrive.

Poet's Notes about The Poem

As an Iraqi poet and essayist, I write my works in Arabic. However, it was in January 2010 that I felt that my mind was full of English words and poetic images with an overwhelming desire to write in English. English is a second language for me and never experienced creative writing in this language. Such an experience represents a challenge. The challenge is to maintain the same quality of literature that I write in my mother tongue and to make use of the different human principles and philosophy that this second language implicates. I wrote these poems between the 15th and 20th of January 2010. It was a joyful experience.
The reason behind publishing these poems is to make them available for examination and evaluation by experts in modern English poetry, a matter that may provide me advice in regard to the value and quality of this poetry. I would appreciate, with very open heart and mind, the frank professional comments that show me the weak points in this work.
Thank you.

Comments about Giant Infant World Collection Of Poems by Nassire Ghadire

  • (6/11/2012 3:09:00 AM)

    English is not my first language neither, but I like most of the poems, especially
    to rescue the last kiss from oblivion..
    (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
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  • (6/11/2012 3:05:00 AM)

    English is not my first language neither, but I liked most of the poems such as
    to rescue the last kiss from oblivion.
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 28, 2012

Poem Edited: Wednesday, May 30, 2012

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