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Poetry by Dilan Qadir

Wishes
Cities
My Cities
Published February 15, 2016
*SPECIAL CALLS*
Poetry Contest #11
~ Wax Poetry and Art: Poetry by Dilan Qadir ~
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Wishes

Shape me into colorless dough and let
The hands of strangers knead me gently.
Bake me slowly in the furnace of Experience
So that I will become the bread
Of godless prophets and their imaginary followers.

Give me to the sleepless beggar,
Awake last night on an empty stomach.
Turn to crumbs my remnants and feed me
To chirping swallows during a sunset in the park.

I want to be eaten by everyone and for
Everything to have a piece of me.

I am not ascetic or suicidal, I am not
Generous or the last man,
But a selfish one who wants to be born in all things,
To see the world from a fish’s eye
And touch cool sand in the fingers of a child
Building his castle on the beach.  


Cities

I crave a place
Where I can walk on soil, pure soil,
Barefoot like a child,
Where my legs have the function
Of walking, and not of waiting
In discount queues, because
I’m jobless and live
On welfare.

A place where the wind
Does not trouble
By lifting skirts or messing
With new haircuts
But breathes, instead, its spirit on our faces.

Where I can hear the thunder
As the cry of the sky,
And wonder if the gods
Are angry.
Where I know that it rains
Because I get wet, and not by
Checking the forecast
Which happens to be untrue.

It is time for me to quit
Living in cities, like a rat
Networking in subways,
Feeding on miseries of alcoholic nights
And fabricated successes of corporate jobs.

This—civilization—is a failed project.


My Cities

Cities have souls
In shape of words,
Objects,
People,
Buildings.

London: Big Ben
New York: Times Square
Beirut: The Mediterranean
Erbil: The Citadel
Seattle: Space Needle (Rain?)
Miami: Beach
Istanbul: Mosques
Bonn: The Rhine
Slemani: Poetry

But only Montréal
Manifests in Snow,
Which is not the cold,
Nor the flakes poured from above,
But a powdered shower
Of white ghosts
Slowly moved
By random breezes,
Like passing fingers
Through the strands of a lover’s
Soft hair.


Biography of Dilan Qadir
I live in Montréal and work as a freelance translator. I studied Creative
Writing at Emerson College, Boston, MA. I am from Kurdistan Region of
Iraq. I write in English and Kurdish and my work has appeared in both
languages. My poetry is forthcoming in
The Underground Literary Journal
and The Lonely Whale Memoir Anthology.
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