Ahmed Zaidan
Three Poems


We jumped towards the distant stars

Towards dim wondering and dark light

We jumped towards the unseen universe

Towards the opposite side of time’s whirlpool

Where and when, time spews like the vomit

Of a pregnant woman, casts off static concepts:

Time, size, dimensions and gods

In a muddy pond

Where the big bang is an unknown

Ejaculate triggered by an irresponsible being

Where the universe is semen

Where nebulas are lit placentas

And we are spermatozoa

Swimming towards the womb of beginning

In the shell of our imagination

I am failing in the light

I am falling in the light

my breaths extend back and forth … like tides on a warm beach of sand …

I expand more and more in the sun like metals

I expand in my love of life til I contain everything around

then, I melt like a travelling cloud

I fade away like a moment of happiness,

like a handful of the dust of the crunched gold between fingers of Princess Jasmine:

I listen to the holy hymns of birds

I pray to the trees

Praise be to you my window!

Praise be to the light that finds its way to my deep loneliness!

I am falling in the light

I am diving in the light

I am breathing the light

I am closing the eyes to see the bright darkness in my eyelids…

I wash my heart with breezes of life again…

I am a part of you, O nature,

I am beyond the window,

like any domestic plants or candle,

like a bird in a cage

I sing but don’t realise the meaning of the blue horizon…

I found myself as I am

I can’t interfere between myself and myself.

The night happens to me

The night happens to me at the brightest mornings

The night happens to me when it is already noon

The night engulfs me whenever I mention the sun

The night happens but despite all the nights that happen to me

I still enjoy the smiles of stars

I still share the moon its tales and music

I still watch the ribbons of passing nations and a poet who rides in the wagon driven by three deers

I still see all that in the silver light of the moon

as two lovers watch the reflected graphics tape in a cinema of seventies…

as two lovers stare the night of the coffee that sparks with bubbles and stars

Rain still is occurring the rhythm on the window edge

The heart is still occurring the rhythm in the body’s cage

Clock on the wall is still occurring the rhythm

Then, the wind rolls the page…

The night could happen to me anytime

For example, when I ignite three candles,

or when I carry my lantern

The night happens as any champagne being opened

Very quick … The night happens to me

Very calm, very gently, very smoothly

Like a dark fire engulfs an old novel

Editing by Andy Willoughby.

Ahmed Zaidan, born in Mosul in 1988, is a journalist and awarded poet from Iraq. He published his first book in 2009, and was forced to flee the country in 2013. Since then, Zaidan has written for newspapers, and performed his poetry in Finland.