Distance Burnt
After the drab rain, the taste of honey dims into a midnight cigarette. Like the money we earn from distance burnt. She says that she loves me, yet she asks what’s my death date? As if my heart is a forsaken bullet, above the lifeless flower in the lighthouse. Let’s face my depression or whatever your noisy educated brain desire to name it. I drank because I can't strangle my crying-soul -inside the leaking roofs of mental issues. Immigrant Dream My father was once an immigrant dream, he often struggled to buy bottled water for us. He taught me not to be a slave to privileged people, he trained me to be fierce and speak about our country. I attempted to whisper through his deafness “ O father some people are racists in exile”. “O father some people are the reason for why immigrants, miserable, and humans with a curse”. I closed my eyes and my father -faded away, went missing, and absent for a lifetime. After! they pulled on their trigger merciless. Simple Orders For me to be confident I must adopt to my heart’s strength For me to admire the blue sky, I must displace the warplanes from the dove’s wings of peace. For me to smile to your face, I must open my lyrical mouth and kiss your rhyming lips. Bio: Ahmad Al-Khatat was born in Baghdad, Iraq. His work has appeared in print and online journals globally. He has poems translated into several languages such as Farsi, Chinses, Spanish, Albanian, Romanian. He has published some poetry chapbooks, and a collection of short stories. He has been nominated for Best of the Net 2019 and was also nominated for the Pushcart Price 2020.
Fevers of the Mind 