Poetry Break: Anwer Ghani

By: Anwer Ghani




We won’t live long, so I’ll bring you a flower every morning with a kiss. These stars we will not see them long, and those smiling hours will not last long. We have to find our old wooden boxes and look at their old things and find peace and love. I am really tired of stealing life, tired of the yellow hands that leave no room for love. They are so bad; they are trying to grow hatred. Life is too short to be heartbroken or bleak in one’s face. The long darkness that some people cultivate, has become longer than our lives, longer than our smile. Believe me we won’t live long.




The man of greatness saw a great land, a great life, and a great death, but I am just a forgotten tale and I need a brave poet with a magic boat to discover me.    Here, in my land there are no poems, so you can depict the intensity of smoke in a land where there are no poems.  Our homes are completely different from scented houses and the women here can afford nothing but sad hearts. The grass here is different, and if the poets see the grass in my land, they will change their idea of life.  Yes, we’re the sons of houses that don’t have doors; I mean the doors of life.




Little by little, your cheek is getting warmer, and the fish of our river have dreams of flying. Do you see our birds? Just look at their eyes; they little by little became more affectionate. Little by little, I began to walk towards you as if you are this broad horizon to fade into you with love. Look at the sand; it is no longer dry; it becomes a story of amazing greening. Little by little, everything becomes different; little by little, my hands began to get warmer and little by little, your cheeks become warmer.




Please, call all the remote sand and make for me a brave shadow. Please, come here and see me; I am the sandy man whom the winds of the world broke all his windows. Yes, this is me, your shadow and your cheap loss. When the evening wears his clothes and the moon comes with his old hat, you may see my faint smile.




I’m so sorry, I can’t love you because I’m just a faint residue. I can’t love you because I’m from here; from the sad land. Yes, you have a very beautiful voice, but I can’t love you because I am a man who can only cry. Believe me, I can’t love you because I cannot smile in the morning, and I will fail to whisper at night. You see; I’m just a blind shadow so I can’t love you. I am a sandy man and the son of the desert, so I can’t love you. I’m the heir of wars and red tales, so I can’t love you. I’m from here; the dry land, so I can’t love you.


Bio: Anwer Ghani


Anwer Ghani is an award-winning poet from Iraq. He was born in 1973 in Babylon.

His name has appeared in more than fifty literary magazines, and twenty anthologies in the USA, UK, and Asia.

Among his many awards is the “World Laureate-Best Poet in 2017 from WNWU”.

In 2018 he was nominated for the Adelaide Award for poetry, and in 2019 he is the winner of Rock Pebbles Literary Award and the award of United Spirit of Writers Academy for Poetry.

Anwer is a religious scholar and consultant nephrologist and the author of more than eighty books; thirteenth of them are in English like; “Narratolyric writing”; (2016), “Antipoetic Poems”;( 2017) and “Mosaicked Poems”; (2018),  and “The Styles of Poetry”; 2019.

Anwer is the editor in chief of Arcs Prose Poetry magazine.
Anwer’s books on Amazon

Anwer’s poetry on Two Drops of Ink


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