My September reading events –Come join me.
I will be at the following events in September; I hope you can join in.
This clip if of Sherry Duggal of her poetry book on the different shades of an Indian Bride entitled Shringar. She will be captivating the Holy Wow Poets Thursday September 6th at 6:00pm
We will gather at the Pitt Meadows Golf Course at 13615 Harris Road in Pitt Meadows. At this dinner, we also have Open Mic. I will be reading later in the evening.
I will be one of the poets at the West Coast Tagore Festival 2018 on Saturday September 8, 2018 at the Gateway Theatre, 6500 Gilbert Road, Richmond, BC
I am going to recite a translated Tagore poem along with others in languages of the world. I will read in Arabic & in Kurdish.
FREE Admission (donation welcomed)
Facebook Event Page: https://www.facebook.com/events/399023257286046/
Website Page: https://www.vancouvertagoresociety.org/festival-2018.html
Cultural Performances: 6:00PM – 8:15PM
Doors Open: 5:30PM
Audience Seating: 5:50PM
Indian Classical Music by Naad Foundation
Woven World Tapestry of Words by World Poetry
Tagore Songs by Vancouver Tagore Society Workshop Series
Bharata Natyam Dance by Alex Parappilly & Ashvini Sundaram
‘Raindrop: A Quest for Love’ – A musical theatre by Vancouver Tagore Society
The story of ‘Raindrop: A Quest for Love’ revolves around two parallel plots of love and nature. In one, the dance-drama presents Dhora, the protagonist, as a young woman furtively questing for love. Looking from outside, she rather seems to be a happy single, even though her Fear, the antagonist, does not allow her to follow her true emotions. In another, Dhora portrays the village soil getting dry deep inside and silently yearning for rain from Shyamal, the Dark Cloud; but her Fear does not let her welcome the changes she must undergo to embrace and enjoy the cloudburst. This dance-drama brings forth awareness of climate justice in an aesthetic way.
The Festival is presented by Vancouver Tagore Society and funded in part by cultural project grants from the City of Richmond and BC Arts Council.
I will be the host of (( Tellers of Short Tales ))
Our feature Author: Nasreen Pejvack
Date: Wednesday Sept 12, 2018
Time: 6:00pm to 8:00pm
Location: Anvil Centre, Room 413A, 777 Columbia Street, New Westminster
Open Mic Sign Up will be available for writers who would like to share their stories.
More info https://rclas.com/recurring/tellers-of-short-tales/
During the evening, I will read a short story of mine.
I will be performing Arabian Dance and will also gather the crowed to teach some basic dance moves so bring a hip scarf and come join me on Saturday September 22 at the Haney Farmers Market in Maple Ridge, BC between 10:00am-2:00pm
HANEY FARMERS MARKET 2018 Market Events
Memorial Peace Park on 224th in downtown Maple Ridge
Every Saturday from 9 – 2, May 12 to November 11
email@example.com 604-467-7433 ext 2
At 1:00pm pm Saturday September 29th, I am one of the feature poets at the Strawberry and will be reading poems from my 2 previously published books and read from my upcoming poetry book. My books will be on sale as well during my reading.
Hills Library 7399 122 St, Surrey, BC V3W 5J2
on Sunday, September 30, 2018, I will be reading poetry at the Vancouver Public Library in downtown Vancouver during the annual WORD Vancouver. http://wordvancouver.ca/
I am feature poet in Port Moody on October 24 🙂 Stay tuned!
Poetry In The Park photos :)
Photos by Janet Kvammen
I was honored to be feature poet at Poetry In The Park on Wednesday July 4, 2018 in New Westminster, BC in Queens Park.
All summer long, every Wednesday, go to Queens Park 6:30-8:30pm at the bandshell and enjoy poetry & open mic
An ode to a beloved that passed
What Suddenly Happened?
~© Lozan Yamolky
Did a flock of white doves
fly above your house
with all their pure white feathers glistening
while hovering in blue skies
on a cold October afternoon?
Did a kaleidoscope of butterflies
flutter past your window
in a brilliant display
of incredible colorful theory;
appearing and disappearing out of nowhere?
Did a team of horses
dash by in a straight line
neighing and snorting as one,
rumbling past your front door
and carrying on until they disappeared
in the distance?
Did a herd of deer
stand outside your window
peering at a reflection of you
lying in bed
that made them stand motionless?
Did the songbirds in your garden
suddenly stopped singing
for no apparent reason
at that precise moment
you took your last breath?
Did a white rose petal
gently fall off the flowers
onto the night table next to your bed
distracting those in the room
for only a moment?
Did the people who love you
let their tears flow
when the nurse covered your beautiful face
with the white sheet
pronouncing you were gone?
Did all that happen
when your spirit departed this life
Yes, all that happened and more
because you are so precious.
The universe felt your departure
because you left a space
that can never be filled;
because you left too soon.
Forever, your memory,
and your love
will remain in all who knew you.
You have touched us all
with such kindness,
There’s nothing much left for us to say
but, rest in peace dear mother;
rest in peace
until we meet again.
From my second book of poems ( Counting Waves ) published by: Silver Bow Publishing in 2017
Feature Poet on Wed. Apr. 11, 2018
I am a feature poet on Wednesday, April 11, 2018 – 6:30pm to 8:30pm at the Rippling Sonnets: Open Mic Poetry Reading in North Vancouver, BC Canada.
RIPPLING SONNETS is an evening of open mic poetry reading. Hosted by Una Bruhns and Deborah L. Kelly. Drop ins welcome.
Location: Lynn Valley branch, North Vancouver District Public Library.
Address: 1277 Lynn Valley Rd, North Vancouver, BC V7J 0A2
More information at nvdpl.ca.
A poem for my Momma
Heads up: Have a tissue nearby!
She was always busy her work was never done;
I’ve seen her go so fast yet I’ve never seen her run.
The list of her daily duties were tedious and endless;
even with disability she was anything but careless.
She endured his abuse and never rolled that dice,
she brushed it off as she searched our heads for lice.
She didn’t repeat ‘I love you’ much there was no time for that;
caring for us was what her love was all about.
We tried to follow the rules, breaking them, we didn’t dare;
whenever we were threatened, she turned into our mama bear.
All that ‘when you have your own children you will understand’,
I wish I knew what it meant, oh wouldn’t that be grand?
I appreciate what she has done fold over folds now;
when I try to do some of what she has done, I say ‘holy cow’!
I am a good mama because I learned from the best;
I hope no one is keeping scores, I hope this is not a test.
Let the entire world hear me, let them all know,
the love in me she planted continues to grow.
I love my mama until the day I die
I sure hope my poem won’t make her cry.
——— ~©Lozan Yamolky
*The meaning of her Arabic name Shafika is: compassionate, tender, the one that eases the pain
This poem was published on the online Royal City Literary Art Society eZine May 2017 issue. https://issuu.com/rclas/docs/may_2017_rclas_ezine_issue45 See link.
Graphics are done by our wonderful, talented and beautiful Janet Kvammen 🙂
Your Life’s Journey
Your Life’s Journey
© Lozan Yamolky
Unless the city sidewalk has
even once, been your bed,
try not to condemn the homeless.
Unless you lived countless days
and countless nights
sad beyond words,
try not to pass judgment on those battling depression.
Unless you have been betrayed
by a person you trusted,
try not to be too quick to criticize
those who have difficulty trusting.
Unless you have felt
the deep anguish
of a woman terminating her pregnancy,
try not to hatefully question
a woman’s right to choose.
Unless you have been displaced
in search of a new life, in a foreign land,
try not to scorn a refugee.
Unless you have been ill
where you find it difficult
to care for yourself,
try not to judge those living in unkempt homes.
If you have never had to choose
between dressing well;
feeding your hungry stomach;
buying your medication;
pay your utility bills;
or keep a roof over your head,
try not to be condescending
to those who look less groomed than you.
My heart aches seeking freedom.
My spirit loves living life.
My crying voice sings beautiful songs.
My arms spread wide, seeking peace.
Reach out for me,
I am everywhere.
I am the needy
you just passed by.
I am the one
you just avoided making
eye contact with.
Who I am and where I am right now
is all a part
—of your life’s journey.
© Lozan Yamolky
from debut book: I’m No Hero
by: Silver Bow Publishing 2016
When I Forget
When I Forget
Remind my son
when I forget his name,
that I knew it before he was born.
Remind the love of my life
when I no longer know who he is,
that I made a vow to love him
to the end of my days.
Remind my sisters
when I become lost not knowing where I live,
to water the flowers in my garden.
Remind my friends
when I forget who I am,
that I was always there;
in good times and bad.
Remind my grandchildren
when my legs forget how to walk,
that I used to dance
to beautiful Arabian music.
Remind my nephews and nieces,
when I forget the many memories I made;
they are all captured in photographs,
in poems and in stories I shared.
Remind my caregivers;
in my younger years,
I was a care provider
and treated my patients
with dignity, tenderness, and care;
I hope they do the same.
When I forget how happy I used to be,
remember how the simple,
brought me joy.
Hugs from friends,
and sitting on my porch swing
made me happy.
Remember how chirping birds
were a symphony to my ears.
Watching sunrises, sunsets
and waves rolling onto shorelines
always made me happy.
writing and reading made me glad.
Hiking in the forest,
and touching trees
made me feel so alive.
So, when I recall none of these things,
do not forget that I am a poet;
the one who wrote this poem.
© Lozan Yamolky
From: Counting Waves
By: Silver Bow Publishing 2017
What I Was Placed Here For
What I Was Placed Here For
#Poem by: Lozan Yamolky
From my second poetry book, Counting Waves by Silver Bow Publishing 2017
I counted after you were born
your fingers and all your toes,
I inspected your eyes, your back
and yes, even your nose.
I was filled with relief
when I first heard you cry;
it filled me with boundless joy
and I smiled with a sigh.
I checked your breathing
each time you were asleep;
and while I did that,
I kissed your hands and feet.
By your bedside,
as you cuddled your stuffy bear;
I prayed for you
with lots of love and care.
I prayed you’d grow wise,
be humble and kind;
to the pain of this world
may you never be blind.
I am happy you’re my boy
and will never ask for more.
Being your mother’s my delight;
it is what I was placed here for.
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