SPRINGS

Autobiography  book by Anwer Ghani

http://www.authorstream.com/Presentation/anwerghani-4197499-springs

A CEDAR TREE

Oh, Cedar, how many aspirants loved you and the immortal Gilgamesh knew how to write you a poem. I am from the distant cities, where the sun is without robe and no eyes, only a story of waiting and something of an ancient fragrant. I am an old traveler, I learned the trip by accident. I also tell you that I am a small sailor and inherited the sea song from my grandparents. The hard wave I will know its desire. I will know it, and I will keep a little silent, so I may remember something. Yes, I will wait as a cedar tree overflows with returnees.

A COLD MESSAGE

The word has a thousand wings full of fear. How can I see? Love of the Earth is not enough; complete freedom is required. Yes, when it comes time for the paving to shake, to walk barefoot, I will collect my breath like a bouquet of flowers smiling for the near future. Here, the word freezes, you need another poetry, a body that trembles. My words are cool message, thorns permeate me; I multiply in the fields of language as a harsh tent, I am still powerless; the language is looking for new sailors. No, the sun is not enough to symbolize freedom and the distances persecute me; I am still stuck to the ground. My words feel cold and my limbs are freezing like trains inhabited by snow travelers.

WARM MOMENTS ART BY ANWER GHANI

FAME

It was a coincidence when I met that famous man. I mean, very famous and very empty. He is not from Hilla and does not work in my grandfather's fields, so he is famous. He is known by his distinguished and surprising name, because surprise and strangeness are something inherent in this civilization. They are looking for fame at any cost, and looking for strangeness and excitement at any cost. But I don't know why sometimes when I hear their names, I remember blown cars, I mean empty souls. They are famous and empty, made with false and artificial influences. Fame is not an Iraqi citizen and Euphrates does not know it because it speaks fluently about beautifying for everything that's really ugly.

The Sad Iraqi Smile

Iraqis cannot live without war, and the morning breeze cannot flirt with their cheeks without its futile sound. I am an Iraqi man; my soul was kneaded by the acidity of sumac, and my dreams drowned in the sea of our sad tales. It is the death that we inherited from our Babylonian fathers, and that cannot be changed without a soft and patient hand. But despite all this bitter smoke, you need the sad Iraqi smile to see the glory of the sun.

Yasser Arafat Peace Award 2019

SMOKE GIRL

 You said "we will meet with smiles under a shining tree in the shining city where the sun songs swaying beams above your golden wrists, but the city has swallowed by smoke, so how can I see your smile? How can I come with two silver rivers and my eyes are filled with tears; amid all this smoke, how can I see you? My heart trembles, and the road is blind; amid the smoke, I cannot see your smile. I have become called Smoke boy and your name is Smoke Girl. My city has become called the city of smoke and my country is the country of smoke. Our days, our hours and our moments are smoked. Your smile, your face and my heart are smoked; nothing here- in our city- but smoke.

Pushcart Nomination

Iraqi poet Anwar Ghani has been nominated for the 2019 Pushcart Award, the world's most important poetry award by inner child press. Anwar Ghani is the first Iraqi poet to be nominated for this award.
After dedicating this nomination to my dear friends, and after more than 500 poems, I announced my retirement of literary writing and devoted myself to religious writing, but I will re-publish my poems on my blog and on social media. So All what I will publish are old poems.

ICMDR Meeting Award

Pushcart Award Nomination 2019

Iraqi poet Anwar Ghani has been nominated for the 2019 Pushcart Award, the world's most important poetry award by Inner Child Press. Anwar Ghani is the first Iraqi poet to be nominated for this award.
After dedicating this nomination to my dear friends, and after more than 500 poems, I announced my retirement of literary writing and devoted myself to religious writing, but I will re-publish my poems on my blog and on social media. So All what I will publish are old poems.

Smoke Girl

You said "we will meet with smiles under a shining tree in the shining city where the sun songs swaying beams above your golden wrists, but the city has swallowed by smoke, so how can I see your smile? How can I come with two silver rivers and my eyes are filled with tears; amid all this smoke, how can I see you? My heart trembles, and the road is blind; amid the smoke, I cannot see your smile. I have become called Smoke boy and your name is Smoke Girl. My city has become called the city of smoke and my country is the country of smoke. Our days, our hours and our moments are smoked. Your smile, your face and my heart are smoked; nothing here- in our city- but smoke.

Yasser Arafat Peace Award 2019