Learn The Art of Arabian Dance & more

What my class will offer you:

  • Why we dance and why it is good for you
  • Basic moves and my signature PBS
  • Arabian dance in a choreographed piece
  • 3 traditional Kurdish dances (hal-par-ke)
  • Iraqi group (dabka) and (radih)

*Dress in flexible clothes (skirts or pants)
*Bring your own reusable container for water


Date: Saturday, Feb. 22nd, 2020 Time: 3:00-5:00pm (Start at 3pm SHARP) Location: Danse Etc. Studio
910 Sherwood Ave., CoquitlamV3K 1A6right by the IKEA in Coquitlam Cost: $20.00/person If you are accompanying a person and staying to watch: $10.00 Payment method: Cash at the door
 I am fundraising to go back to Kurdistan –my homeland to visit and complete my book.

Disclaimer: This is a (one day) FOR FUN —fundraiser dance class.  It is a low-intensity workout. Everyone is welcome to join. If you are not well or overstretch yourself, I won’t be responsible for the injury. This is learning & laughter & support a writer, crash dance class, so, if you can’t do a certain move, just don’t do it!

Ukraine International Airlines Flight 752 (January 8, 2020)

Here is the full speech and the poem I shared at the celebration of life event in North Vancouver yesterday. I was humble and honored to be asked to speak and share my poem.


Before I begin, I wish to acknowledge that we are gathered on the unceded and un-surrendered sacred land of the Musqueam xʷməθkʷəjˀəm, Tsleil-Waututh səl̓ilwətaɁɬ and  Squamish Sḵwx̱wú7mesh Úxwumixw Nations. This is the ancestral land of the Coast Salish People.

Good evening to you all.

Please do forgive me because I won’t thank you for being here this evening; instead, I want to say —and say it from the deepest part of my heart and soul that I am so sorry that you and I have to gather here today. 

This tragedy, this crime against humanity, this ‘mistake,’ this deliberate disregard for life should have never happened. 

This was avoidable! 

This was a massive and devastating blow to peace on this planet! 

The damage, the harm, and the far-reaching trauma that will ensue for decades and for generations to come must never be allowed to happen to anyone anywhere, ever! 

The painful ripple effect of what was done to all 176 passengers and crew of Ukraine International Airlines Flight PS752 on January 8, 2020, is reaching the farthest places on this earth. For each soul lost, hundreds and hundreds of people are hurting, and as we witness them suffer, we suffer too. 

We lost great minds; we lost future prominent leaders, researchers, journalists, professors, and doctors. 

We lost teachers, artists, students, and flight attendants. 

We lost wives, husbands, moms, dads, sisters, brothers, and even a precious one-year-old Kurdish girl, Kurdia Molani. Lives perished, families broken, humanity reeling, and a hopeful future went with a single press of a button. 

We gather and mourn this tragedy of that flight that was scheduled international passenger flight from Tehran to Kiev that fateful day. It was shot down shortly after takeoff from Tehran Imam Khomeini International Airport

Attributing this crime to ‘human error’ by The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps of Iran is unacceptable, and for Iranian President Hassan Rouhani, who denied it, then later describe it ‘unforgivable mistake’ won’t cut it either. 

We will forever honor the lives that were cut short. We demand that the families be supported, access granted to surviving relatives, and we want the victims to remain a symbolic figure for all nations to never, ever let such crime to happen again.

May those we lost, rest in peace, may each family member and all who knew those we lost, find comfort, and take all the time needed to grieve the terrible loss. 

May we as one, as witnesses to what was done to those families, remain united in love, support, openness, giving, and never allow hope to be lost. 

Allow us to become more united and more connected —now more than ever, in harmony, compassion, empathy, peace, and, most importantly, with love because love can heal all wounds.


My Family

~by Lozan Yamolky 

Ukraine International Airlines Flight 752 was shot down by Iranian missile shortly after takeoff on January 8th, 2020 killing all 176 passengers including 57 Canadian citizens. Two of those that we lost were, Snoor Pourghaderi & Serveh Pasavand. May they all rest in peace and may their loved one and all who knew them, find peace, comfort and healing. I wrote this pome from the point of view of Amir, the father and husband of two we lost in our Kurdish community in Canada.

I am not broken;

I am shattered. 

I am not weeping;

I am drowning in my tears. 

I am not hurting;

I am partially dead inside

because they took my family away.  

Break every bone in my body;

just don’t take my family away from me. 

Torture me and cut every nerve ending in my extremity;

just please, don’t harm my family. 

Burn my body whole and alive.

Burn my body whole and alive;

just don’t touch my family. 

Point ALL your mightiest weapons at me

and SHOOT;

just don’t point it at them!

Please, don’t point it at them. 

Let me be the last husband 

and the last father to ever die 

protecting his family 

from your insatiable lust for blood, 

power, ego, oil, control 

and for your insatiable desire

to have more money. 

Take back your flowers; 

instead, go make them not press that button. 

Take back your condolences; 

instead, go and shout at them to stop, 

for God’s sake, stop! 

Blow out all those lit up candles; 

instead, go tell the world 

to never let them get away with it; 

don’t let them do it to another soul. 

Stop the senseless slaughter! 

The slaughter of my family; 

the massacre of my soul, 

and the sacrifice of my future.  

Enough violence.

Enough ‘mistakes’ & ‘friendly-fire’.

Enough excuses.

Enough destruction of innocent lives and livelihood. 

My family didn’t deserve this.
I don’t deserve this!

—©Lozan Yamolky

Stay Tuned for my fundraising plans in February

YES, every dress you see me wearing in those photos and many many more dresses, accessories & scarves will be placed in an auction page to be sold to the highest bidder.
I am raising funds to gather $5,000.00 to plan my lifelong dream trip to my homeland to finish my memoire.

Every dollar counts and each dress sold, will bring me one step closer to fulfilling my dream of going home this year.

Stay tuned 😉

Refugee poetry and dinner for human rights in Port Moody




A dinner in Port Moody focusing on refugees through music and poetry will mark the 71st anniversary of the United Nations Declaration of Human Rights.

The annual fundraising dinner, to be held Dec. 10 and hosted by members of Tri-Cities Amnesty International, will feature the Vancouver Kurdish Music Ensemble and refugee poet Lozan Yamolky, as well as a video outlining the history of human rights. 

“The Tri-Cities is now home for hundreds of refugees from many different countries,” Amnesty member Hazel Postma said in a press release. “Lozan’s poems evoke the sense of loss, as well as the hope, many of them must feel as they come to terms with their new reality.”

Yamolky was born in Iraq of Kurdish descent and, as a young adult, sought asylum in Turkey where she worked as an interpreter for the UN and the Canadian embassy. She moved with her family to Canada in 1995. Her poems reflect the anguish and suffering experienced by refugees. She says her purpose is to “wake up our conscience.”

The dinner, hosted by the Coquitlam restaurant Pasta Polo, takes place at The Old Mill Boathouse, 2715 Esplanade Ave., Port Moody. Tickets are $25 a person and include music, poetry, dinner, dessert and a silent auction. To reserve, go to eventbrite.com/e/80185686547.


© Copyright 2019 Tri-City News

Tellers Of Short Tales January 9th, 2020

Hello everyone, join us and enjoy (Tellers Of Short Tales) on Thursday January 9th, 2020 6:00-8:00pm in New Westminster. I am the host and will be introducing Shawn Douglas who is a Canadian screenwriter, an academic, and a critically-acclaimed author.

Please join us to enjoy reading by the author and if you have a short story or even a part of a story you are writing, come read it with us.
This is not a critique group nor will we judge your work. Just come and share with us what you wrote.

I will be reading a story from the memoire I am working on. I hope to see familiar faces and new faces. Bring a friend and come. It will be fun!

Write For Rights Day

On Tuesday December 10th, 2019 TriCities Chapter of Amnesty International is hosting an evening of poetry, music, silent auction, delicious food, delightful company and more.

Come join us and get your tickets soon becuase space is limited.

I am humbly and utterly honored to be invited by Joy Silver to be the featured poet for the evening.

As I continue to write my story, I am going to be reading part of it at the event and some new and published poems from my three books, (I’m No Hero), (Counting Waves) & (Dreamers Needed). My books will be on display for sale and part of the proceeds will be donated to Amnesty International.

I look forward to seeing new and familiar faces on Tuesday.

I wish to thank Joy Silver and her incredible team for organizing the annual event that I am so much looking forward to.

You are invited to join us!

If you can’t make it and want to order copies of my books, feel free to contact me directly. Part of the proceeds of any book sold up to/ on the day of the event will be donated to Amnesty International.

I Am Here

They say, ‘it takes a village to raise a child’, well, I watched, bewildered, our village here in Canada –a nation of immigrants, got few very loud people who hated refugees with passion. That behavior birthed this poem!
I wrote this poem to awaken in people who hate immigrant & refugee, their sense of compassion, their sense of decency and empathy.
I was commissioned by a chamber choir to write a poem about ‘The Refugee Experience’, so I offered this poem which was composed and sang in majestic and angelic choral music by The DaCapo Chamber Choir in Waterloo Ontario, Canada in March 2019.

I am here
—©Lozan Yamolky
(3rd Book of Poetry collection: Dreamers Needed 2019)

You won’t find me in the abandoned towns, the empty schools,

playgrounds, or the collapsed hospitals
of my homeland. 

You won’t find me

at my friends’ houses, on my bicycle

in the park, or in a roofless home

on a dark and frightening night. 

You won’t find me in the market

that is now colourless and empty;

you won’t find me on a prayer mat

at a mosque that now

is a sniper’s enclave. 

You won’t find me on a merciless

rocky mountain path

overflowing with women and children
searching for safety under a brutal

hot sun. 

You won’t find me covering my ears
to drown out the din

of the relentless bombing. 

You won’t find me in cities

blanketed with smoke,


with the blood of the innocent

oozing beside a fading horizon 
that begs the sun not to leave

at dusk. 

You won’t hear my name mentioned

in the keening cries

of parents left childless in the mayhem;
nor will you find me buried

along with those

that perished from hunger

and from pain, longing for peace,
and you won’t find me

among the little girls bought

and traded and used
spoils-of- war. 

You won’t find me clinging to dear life

on a flimsy boat crossing the sea
in search of a new place to call home,
and you won’t see my life jacket floating.

You won’t find me drowned in the sea,

washed up on an unforgiving shore
or wrapped in a golden rescue blanket


unable to speak or cry. 

You won’t find me in the crowd

fleeing the imminent and terrible end.
You won’t find me fenced-in

behind a gate

from which I cannot escape,

and at the mercy of an army

that cannot understand

the words I speak. 

You won’t find me dousing the flames
of a burning refugee camp in Lesbos. 

You won’t find me picking up

food scraps in Vienna,

and you won’t spot me escaping bulldozers crushing

my makeshift home

on an icy dawn in Calais.   

You won’t find me

where I used to belong

or where I have been lost

on the journey;

I am no longer languishing
in a refugee camp. 

I am not there

because I have been found,
and just like a little tree,
I am planted in new soil.   

I am here 
—I am here now. 

All you must do

is help me grow

because I am the child, 
and this… this is our village.

—©Lozan Yamolky
(3rd Book of Poetry collection: Dreamers Needed 2019)