AbdelAziz Alhaider

The words were flowing….colliding….snapping
My erupt from the fountain of sorrow
The closed door….the few hard verses
The first surprising fountain……the smell of paint…the lilting of the rhythm
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This open sky of my pictures
And no one look
This crowd dancing in the festival of my pictures
And no one look
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There, ….. there is no sea, there is no blue

There is no wood in the foundations of the subject of the docks
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Magician

who is breaking this arch of the blossoming sleepy under the eyelids?
Who is breaking in of this dream.... Rose.... And flooding on the shores of most sad longing and suffering and hardship......! !
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Memories

The river is spreading a memory made by mud and small stones
alluvium... palm leaves
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My icon of sorrows is in front of me and the dead bodies of days are
behind me

This … the reader in the silences valleys of wisdom hymns
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Behind the wall of alienation there is a sound raising with screaming brutal
Ringing the bell with loose rope in the waking memory and forgetful memory
Behind the alienations glass with whisper…..with tears this child heart will broken
Drowning in tears... In the words of stone... and the bitter cup
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Abdel-Aziz Haider

the boats are returning
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The time and the wave are roaring …….and the time
Extends as a coast of myth fog
As bodies of the cunning sessions
As the bodies of the days dumped onto orthogonal to the city and the sea
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O Little Tramp.... my poor heart

festivals of cranky and the ego flying as a smoke In the multiple
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No thing is as this moment ….the pleasure is a newly born of the imagination
A baby of dreams
Who laugh…cry…smile…singing under the colored water of the life
All ways we are drinkers
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Under the foot…. or exactly beside the large finger
the celebrated clan were sating in circle that will completes the circle of every things…………. all things
Goddess of wine. Lord of the poetry..., 'says not the sea
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The time is crawling around the midday
and the nails under the heels are engraving in the head.
Heavy rain is taking the night and the day
the sea is cracking in the brain who is deeply interred in the grass
And the monkeys, which under the foot.
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Forgotten sections
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If this feline time leaves to me
Some papers
I will played calmly for the last role of the game
if this monster let me .. the time…. Played with a sly without wings
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Drop from the café

Azzizalhaider-iraq
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Hardness

Abdul Aziz Al Haidar
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Braids are playing in the wind

Abdul Aziz Al Haidar 14/2/2010
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Images of the city

Abdul Aziz Al Haidar
Men..... Women
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Abdul Aziz Haider
Publication 1986 in the Journal of the Republic Baghdadiya
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