My Exile

By: Aso Jabar My soul is brimful from a storm of a dream A sorrow of an Autumn will take me I turn to the rain and I will rain on a tryst of a garden Drop drop I will pour under the feet of an Autumn flower I will pass between…

A Day before Death

I will go to place faraway Where nobody there knows me A place Where the streets be peculiar No house, No room No bed No mobile phone No internet Until no gravel of inconsistent speeches Replays the events of my lost years. I…

Colours

Nawroz Sinjari I was not able to remove my gaze from the painting. I was staring at it for a long time, letting my soul be soaked by and lost in the colours and the shapes. My hands passed over the canvas gently, a movement in…

The Front Door of War

By Zhawen Shali The girls of my village Were sizzling the sunflower seeds Because of the disappearance of the sun They were taking empty pots to the spring water And narrating the decisiveness of water to the water And used to get…