Oh You Gentle Soul 

11892185_10153527302897731_201414288813727258_n

 © Lozan Yamolky

 She is small and frail, 

but there’s a spark in her eyes. 

 

She is young and oh, so shy, 

but there’s a determination in her gaze.

 

She is short and thin, 

but you get the sense 

you are in the presence 

of a memorable girl. 

 

She is unable to speak, 

but she can hear.   

 

She understands, 

but not your spoken words.

 

She understands  your tone, 

your gesture  

and the movement of your eyes. 

 

Don’t underestimate her.

Don’t dismiss her. 

Don’t you dare think less of her

because she is small

and cannot speak or walk well.

 

She cannot speak 

but knows! 

You can feel it in your gut, 

she knows. 

 

So, tread lightly, 

speak politely, 

be genuine 

and if you can’t, 

then just keep moving. 

 

She stood up. 

You could hear a pin drop.

Everybody held their breath 

fearing she would fall. 

 

She is still standing up 

slowly… gracefully… cautiously.

 

Oh my, she’s moving in slow motion. 

 

As gentle as a butterfly  walking on your finger,

she walked on that hardwood floor. 

One small step after another 

then suddenly,

a ray of sunlight  penetrated the sunroof  exposing the dusty hardwood floor  she walked on.

It takes the breath away;  as we realized  that we are out here living on this earth 

existing as if this planet  owe us something  and nothing is good enough;  we stomp, we complain  and we are unsatisfied. 

We wipe forests, 

eradicate species, 

and factory farm animals for one reason alone.

 

We pollute our waters, 

contaminate our soil 

and even poison the air we breathe, 

while she in her pain walks 

without harming anyone 

or –anything; 

not even disturbing 

the dust beneath her feet.

 

 

© Lozan Yamolky

From debut book of poetry: I’m No Hero
 by: Silver Bow Publishing 2016

 Disclaimer: Photo from Facebook page: Evolver Social Movement

 

Your Life’s Journey

IMG_4788

 

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

Tuesday Nov 7 @3pm

I am invited to recite poetry from my books ( I’m No Hero ) & ( Counting Waves ) in Maple Ridge Seniors Village on Tuesday November 7th @ 3:00pm
I used to work there as a Care Aide for years and
it will be wonderful to be there again. I miss the staff and the people living there

I appreciate the recreation and therapy staff for inviting me 🙂

IMG_0445

http://www.retirementconcepts.calls.net/locations/maple-ridge-seniors-village/?trkid=V3ADW411363_11738481298_kwd-37838689197__165913861877_g_c__

Decorate

0146E3E6-D933-4A6C-BB77-8F2B3A2CA260

Decorate your book shelve with poetry books and add [ Counting Waves ] to your poetry collection portion.

Let me know if you want to get your copy of my book and I will bring it to you if your live nearby me or ship it your way worldwide.

When you get a moment and when you want to listen to one of my poems being recited by World Potey Open Mic, check this: http://www.worldpoetryopenmic.net/uploads/5/1/8/3/5183702/wpom-2017-10-20.mp3

At 01:08:00 you will hear my poem: Inner Peace

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it and sharing it with the world.

 

When I Forget

DWGO2022

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,
free things
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.

Drinking tea,
writing and reading made me glad.

Hiking in the forest,
nature sounds
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

 

To Nana

img028

I found an old letter I have written back in 2004 to my Nana Fatim (may she rest in peace). The printed letter was in a file on my computer that I have not looked at for years.
I am thankful that someone read this letter to her in Baghdad because I did speak to her few weeks after that letter was sent and she told me she was the photos I sent. Oh I miss her so much and I know my words are echoed by all my sisters and brothers who also loved her the same if not more.

She was one a amazing woman. I love her forever.

إلى حبيبة قلبي نه نه فاطم… إلى ٲحن و أعز نه نه باعالم كله نه نه فاطم

 

حياتي و نور عيوني اتمنى من كل أعماق قلبي ان تكوني على خير و صحة عافية.

عمري نه نه فاطم والله مشتاقة لكِ إلى حد مستحيل يوصف بالكلمات وصدقيني نه نه فاطم ما يمر علي يوم واحد – يوم واحد إذا ما أذكر إسمچ الطيب على لساني لو بقلبي إلي ابداً ابداً ماينساچ ولو يوم واحد.

 

نه نه فاطم انتي غّيرتي حياتي كلتها بقلبكِ و بطيبكِ و بصوتكِ الدافي و إيدچ الناعمة حبيبتي و عمري نه نه فاطم انتي احسن معلمة بها لعالم كلها و كلشي دا أسوي بكل يوم هنا يذكرني بيچ نه نه فاطم ولله ولله إذا بس بيدي نه نه فاطم انطي حياتي الباقية كلتها بس اشوفچ فد لحضة و أبوس إيديچ الحلوة …

 

نه نه فاطم انتي علمتيني كلشى اعرفة اليوم. اني هواية احبچ نه نه فاطم ولله بس لو بيدي وبس لو عندي إمكانية, ولله لا تشوفيني علا بابچ واگفة بدل هذي الورقة الي اتجنني لاُنه هي بيدچ بهاي اللحظة بدالي اني لوزان ٲو مثل ما كنتي انتي تسميني لوزينه.

 

نه نه فاطم اني اعرف اشگد إنتي تحبينا واعرف انو إنتي تعبتي علينا هواية هواية  بس اريدچ تعرفين انه لو من صدگ چنت اني أعرف الغربة هلگد راح تبعدنا و هلگد صعب و غالي الرجوع اليك, والله والله لا كنت احضنچ بكل قوتي  وما رحت ذاك اليوم من ودعناچ بأربيل گبال شقة خالو صباح. .

 

 

هالعالم كلها بچفة وإنتي لوحدك بچفة   نه نه فاطم هلگد إنتي لوحدك هلگد عزيزة عليه ….

حبيبتي   نه نه فاطم سامحيني لأنه ماحاولت بجهد أكثر انه ابقى على اتصال بيچ و بخوالي الأعزاء أو خاله أميرة. رجاءً وصلي إعتذاري الخاص لهم.

 

انشاءلله الأوضاع تتحسن باسرع وقت حتا الناس تبدأ تعيش بامن و  سلام بعراق الوطن –على گولتچ   نه نه فاطم.

 

وصلټني صورۃ واحدۃ وفيھا إنتي ومجموعۃ اطفال و خالۃ ٲميرۃ.

 

ابعثلچ بهذى الرسالة كم صورة جديدة إلي و لإبني وزوجي  إلي  ٲبدا مايمل من سمع حكايات احكيها له عنك وعن طيبتچ و همين ابعثلچ عنواني هنا بكندا.  حاليا آني حامل خمس شهور و إنشاله رحأولد طفلي الثاني بشهر شوباط السنه الجايه.

 

مع السلامة   نه نه فاطم گيان به قوربانت ءه بم. سلامي الى الجميع…

 

لوزينه

What I Was Placed Here For

20130609_200403

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.