Reading at the ICCL

Yesterday I was afforded the pleasure of reading some of my poetry at the ICCL (

They are an Iraqi cultural centre based in london. I must say I really enjoyed the experience. I read some poetry and an excerpt from my book. I also got to showcase my new book cover. Overall the event was a change to the normal and mundane life of a writer. Writers are so used to being hermetic, and residing in the shadows, that doing something so public is always a nice change. Even these celebrity writers such as j.k. rowling avoid the limelight, and after yesterday’s event, it made me ask the question, why? Surely if a writers is conferred the power to have his thoughts and ideals permeate through society, he should have the confidence and courage to stand before them. Sometimes it feels like writing and poetry has become a way to express opinion in secret, as if their opinions hold any value, when the writers themselves are not willing to speak them out in public.
Another interesting point is that I met other writers and critics, it was a pleasurable experience, because normally we only know the writers by their words inscribed on paper. And yet we never really see the face behind the words.

Today I turn 24, I am going to miss 23, mainly because 23 has so much mystery around it, there are conspiracy theories surrounding the number and there’s even a film named after it (google the number 23 with jim carrey). It still doesn’t feel like I have accomplished what I set out to accomplish in this year, and I still feel a little depressed in that regard, maybe I have unrealistic hopes? But why should I have mundane and common hopes, is life really worth living if we are not pushed to the edge, and taken to the zenith of our capabilities? I still wonder what 24 will have in store for me. Hopefully more change, hopefully an opportunity to grow and develop even further than what I have now.

To end this post I will leave you with one of the poems I recited yesterday.

The Mind of God

Enter the smoke and disappear

Vanish into this mass façade

The consciousness of the untouchable

We are the ones that you fear

All broken from the same shard

Lost in a maze to struggle

Listen to whispers into a new ear

Light the way and keep up guard

The prophet returns within the mind of God

A hand looming to enter and clutch

The tables have turned from that day

As now what was hidden is now uncovered

Can you feel the mysterious touch

I rise with that fateful spray

Images burned of those who suffered

Leaving a footprint of rage

Watch as I leave masses caged

By this page, leaving this dead age

A new stage so I enter the thunderous

A world that shall feel the gust

That which must be created without lust

So I enter this new path looking from beyond

And seeing the life and death I have spawned

On our knees, hands raised, page erased

I have staged

What I must see

To create the one you think you flee

And what we fear lies deep within our own mind

WE must look within, start within, to fix the out

Only when we do such a thing, can we shift

Like a man reaching for the light who is blind

Like the rain that quenches the desert in a drought

Like the planets and stars caught in their rift

Guided by the light under the moon

I walk this path of darkness in an ancient land

I try to ignore that which my eyes see

Like the ascension of insects from a cocoon

Like the scattering of the desert sand

Like the seeds that compose the trees

We can brush away the dune

The light and the lamp reside in hand

And the old buildings lie in debris

So do you chase the one who follows the moon?

Or is the sun in your command?

Do you recline within the shade

Hold the keys in your hand?

Are we truly quenched

Oh holy of the most holies

Freedom in Death

Like we entertain the thought

Look at your own hands to see what I have wrought

I bring the pain of the ancient past

And shade you in the shadows that were cast

Whilst I fade into the mind of God

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