Forgotten Stories
© Lozan Yamolky
Dedicated to my beloved Nana Fatim; may her soul forever rest in peace.
She told us stories; more than a few.
All were old; none were new.
She told us stories from her heart;
She held our minds spellbound, every part.
She told and retold, as we lay on the floor,
we listened as though we hadn’t heard it before.
Stories of sadness, fright or despair;
all ended triumphantly with joy in the air.
Tears flowed whenever she laughed;
when father got mad, she was our life raft.
She was always busy keeping our house clean;
But never too busy to listen to our dreams.
We ran shouting her name to the end of the street;
the joy of expecting her was always a treat.
Without her aba-ya* and slippers she’d never go outside;
we always hid them both to keep her by our side.
She told us many stories, and testaments of strong faith;
taught us to deepen that well within and never leave room for hate.
I’ve forgotten all her stories except for one;
I try to recall more, but alas, I find none.
I know within the folds of my beating heart,
inscriptions of her stories created love’s sweet spark.
Her stories, I may not be able to fully recall,
but memories of her telling them are not forgotten at all.
Nana, larger than life you are to me.
Empowered by you, I am loved and I am free.
You are no longer here with us; you have left this earth,
but your humble soul carved tenderness in me since birth.
I carry your essence with me wherever I may go,
because your passion and kindness are deep within me, I know!
© Lozan Yamolky
Counting Waves
Silver Bow Publishing 2017
Disclaimer: Photo by Harry Braun (Oahu, Hawaii 2016)
aba-ya*: a traditional black head to toe cover women in Iraq wear when they go outside.
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Published by Lozan Yamolky
First and foremost, I would like to acknowledge that I humbly live on the traditional, unceeded territories of the səlil̓wətaʔɬ (Tsleil-Waututh), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish) & xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam) Nations. Thank you for allowing me to live on your land —Vancouver, BC Canada.
I am a Canadian citizen who migrated from Kurdistan —Present day Northern Iraq, in 1995 after spending over a year as an asylum seeker in Turkey.
I was born and raised in Baghdad in 1972, I am the fifth of eleven children; three boys and seven girls –one brother passed away in infancy.
I am the author of ( I’m No Hero) and ( Counting Waves ) published by: Silver Bow Publishing. I am dedicating my third book of poems ( Dreamers Needed ) to my teenage boys, Trey, 15 and Wyatt, 13.
I started reciting my poems for the first time in 2013 at The Holy Wow Poets Canada in Maple Ridge. I am currently a member of the Canadian Authors Association, Federation of BC Writers, The Royal City Literary Art Society and the Holy Wow Poets Canada. I am presently the secretary of the Royal City Literary Arts Society. I work as a freelance interpreter.
I was commissioned in the fall of 2017 to write a poem about the refugee experience to DaCapo Chamber Choir in Toronto. The event will feature my poem “I am here” in spring 2019.
I was one of the recipients of the 2018 Distinguished Poet Award from WIN– Writers International Network Canada and was 3rd place winner at the 2018 Tagore Festival Peace Poems contest. Since first sharing my poetry in 2013, I have featured in numerous poetry events throughout the Greater Vancouver area.
My work has been published in The Royal City Poets Anthologies (Silver Bow Publishing), The Royal City Literary Arts Society online magazine eZine, Wordplay at Work, Creative Quills Ink Verse (North Vancouver), Celebrate Canada 150 and Culture Days From Far and Wide (Multicultural Creative Writing Collection 2017) and the 2018 Holy Wow Poets Anthology (Maple Ridge).
View all posts by Lozan Yamolky
Well stated, keep up the good work
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