Neighbourly chats

 

Neighbourly chats

By Ghanim Anaz

 

On my way from the shop

I usually make a stop

At a garden that invites

Passers-by to its delights

I often see my neighbour

Tending it with hard labour

He spends hours at a time

Keeping it in its prime

I usually stop to chat

And he often waits for that

He would soon stop working

And eagerly start talking

About what you may say?

About the news of that day

About this bit or that thing

 Other times about nothing

A neighbour may join in 

Others would nod and grin

And since we are retired

No hurry seems required

When everything has been said

I start to move ahead

He would say I made him late

I would say he laid the bait

With a grin we both attest

It was nice to have that rest

That to me how life should be

Friendly, cheerful carefree

Watford, Herts, U.K

July 2013

**********  

13/8/2013

عزيزي ابو القاسم

 

ابدعت كعادتك في رسم قصيدتك بكلمات الواقع كأنما نعيشه فعلا

 لقد رسمت فعلاً بسمة على الشفاه واطالت

شكرا جزيلا ننتظر المزيد

 

اخوك الدكتور سالم الشماع

 

 **********

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WONDERFUL YOUTH

 

WONDERFUL YOUTH

 

I was once very young

Who would sing any song

I would laugh at any joke

And would chuckle as I talk

 

I was once truly free

As a sparrow on a tree

I would fly here and there

And could soar without a care

 

I was bold, I was daring

I was soft, I was caring

I would venture anywhere

And may touch a star up there

 

I had once a dancing soul

That would dart, never crawl

I had heart ready to spark

If a beauty hits the mark

 

Now I feel so very tame

With no fire or a  flame

With no twinkles in my eyes

Oh old age stop your sighs

 

Oh my youth call again

Wake me up, jerk the brain

Dust my soul, brush the rust

Bring me laughter with a gust

 

Oh my youth bring me cheers

Ring your bells in my ears

Shine your sun and chase the rain

Flash your rainbow once again

Ghanim Anaz

Watford, Herts, U.K

April 2013

*************

Dear Ghanim
 

What a lovely poem, I enjoyed reading it so much; it must apply to so many
of us.
Kind regards.

Dr Maureen Jalili

*************

Ghanim
What a wonderful poet you are.

This poem took my mind to my childhood when we had nothing to worry about.

Now I want to escape our present and old age problems and remember our days in Kirkuk, playing golf and enjoying the weather.

I miss you, God bless you.

Azzam Baker

*************

Great poem Jiddo.

You're a true wordsmith!

Omar Anaz

*************

This is a wonderful poem from a wonderful friend.

Mowaffaq Al-Assad

*************

Thank you Akhi Ghanim for sharing your rhyme with me.

Tariq Shafiq

*************

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Dreaded Flu

The Dreaded Flu

Today, I feel so rotten

A nasty flu I have gotten

My nose drips like a tap

My temper ready to snap

My eyes are full of tears

The spirit is void of cheers

Bed seems to be the place

To go to with some grace

No doubt, my joints will ache

And the face will nearly bake

And though it’s only the flu

It leaves the  soul very blue

I wish there is some cure

That could kill it for sure

Ghanim Anaz- Watford, U.K.

THE FOOL

 

THE FOOL

By Ghanim Anaz

Have you met a proper fool?

Rude and stubborn as a mule?

The scull is massive and numb

But as hollow as a drum

 

 

The physique is the picture of health

Though modesty condemned to death

The appearance is quite impressive

Pity the manners are so aggressive

Flaunting an air of importance

Reaping ridicule and annoyance

Though, his voice is loud and clear

The views are rarely worth the ear

Still, during debates, he will speak

And imagine himself quite unique

But those of us who know better

Would walk away and mutter

Fools! Will always be fools

Despite colleges and schools

Watford, Herts

May 2008

قصيدة جــواز ســفـــر

جــواز  ســفـــر

                                                                     غـانـم  الـعــنّــاز
 

 

قــد  بـلـيــنــا  بــجــواز ٍ         ما  صفـا  يـومـاً  وطـابْ

فـهـو  كالـمعلـولِ  فـيـنـا          يـشكـو  حـمّـى  واكـتـآبْ

 

**********

مـنـذ  بـدءِ  الحـمـل  فـيـهِ          يـقـتـفـي  درب  الـعـذابْ

فـيـطول  الحمـل  عـشـراً          فـي  ســـؤآل ٍ وجـــوابْ

ويـصـيــر  الـوحـم  مــرّاً          مـن  تـحـرّي  وحـسـابْ

لـيكـون  الطـلـق ُ صعـبـاً          مــن  ذهـــاب ٍ  وايـــابْ

**********

يـبـدأ  الـعـمــر  يــتـيــمـاً          ويـعـانـي  الاضـطــرابْ

فهــو  مـحـكـومٌ  عـلـيــه ِ        بالــعـــذاب   والـعـــقـــابْ

إن  سعـى  يـطـلب  فــيـزا          قـيـد   مـن  بـاب ٍ لــبـابْ

يـقـضي  ايـامـاً  طـويـلـةْ         في  انـتـظار ٍ  وارتـقـابْ

فـيُـجابُ  السـعيُ  حـيـنـاً          وكـثـيــراً  لا  يــجــــابْ

**********

لـو  أتى  يـومـاً  مـطـاراً          هاب  من  بين  الصحابْ

يـرتـبـك ْ عنـد  الرقـيـب ِ         حـين  يُـفـحصْ  بارتيـابْ

هـل  هـو  حــقــاً  أصيل ٌ         أم   مــزّور   ومــعـــابْ

وهـو  يـدعــو  يا  إلـهـي          لـيـكن  حـسـنُ  الـثــوابْ

**********

إن  بـغى  تجـديـد  عـهــدٍ          بـعــد  ان  كـلّ  وشــابْ

عـاد  يـستـجـدي  رضــاءً          ويــبـرهــن ْ  الانـتـسـابْ

لــيـغـوص  مـن  جــديــدٍ          فـي  كــتـاب ٍ  وخـطــابْ

ويــمــل ّ  مــن  وعــــود ٍ          تـلـهـث  خـلـف   السرابْ

كي يــدور  فـي  فـــراغٍ         ضـائـعـاً  يـرجـو  جــوابْ

فهـو  دوماً  تـحـت  شـك ٍ         وهــمـــو في  الارتــيـــابْ

يا  تـرى  هـل  من  شـفـاءٍ         قــبـل  فـقــدان  الصــوابْ

 

الـشـارقـة -  ايار/ مايو  2007

 

**************

 نحن الآن في عام 2013

ولا زال الجواز يعاني من امراضه الستعصية

فقد كتب الاستاذ عصام الجلبي ما يلي:

العراق بالمرتبة الأخيرة في استقبال مواطنيه دون تأشيرة مسبقة

ماشاء الله...العراق دائما في مثل هذه المراتب ولا ندري متى يخف الحمل عن العراقيين وتفرج الغمة عنهم؟

يعرف المعاناة كل عراقي راجع أي سفارة فالمعاناة لا بل المهانة يتلقاها وهو ساكت وألا فالرفض المطلق مصيرطلبه

حسبي الله ونعم الوكيل

الرجاء ممن لا يصدق هذا الخبر أن يدقق بنفسه بالذهاب الى الموقع المشار اليه

DoYouNeedPassport.com"

وأننا لله وأنا أليه راجعون

عصام الجلبي

الأربعاء, 15 أيار/مايو 2013

***********

وكتب الاستاذ مزاحم الجليلي:

عزيزي الاستاذ غانم

قطعتك حول الجواز العراقي تذكرني بحادثة طريفة حصلت لصديق كان مقيما في الكويت.
وقتها منعت الحكومة اي عراقي من السفر اكثر من مرة واحدة في السنة ولما
لفت نظر السلطة الى وجود عراقيين كثيرين مقيمين في دول الخليج اصدروا تعديل
يسمح لهم بالسفر اكثر من مرة شرط الحصول على موافقة تردد.
قام صديقي باستحصال هذه الموافقة و تمكن من السفر ٣ مرات الى الكويت لكن في
السفرة الرابعة منعه موظف الجوازات من السفر.
قال صديقي للموظف بس انا عندي موافقة تردد في الصفحة الفلانية
وكان الجواب بلي شفتها بس هذا مو تردد انت مسويها خري مري.
***********

يا  تـرى  هـل  من  شـفـاءٍ         قــبـل  فـقــدان  الصــوابْ

مع بالغ الحترام
مزاحم الجليلي

Iraqi Passport

brechttranslatedSeptember 5, 2017September 17, 2017Uncategorized

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Poem by Ghanim Anaz

Translation by James Cain

........................................Iraqi Passport

We have been burdened with a passport / carrying it is never pleasant, never happy

It’s like the sick among us / with complaints of fever and depression, it’s old and weary

For since its early conception / it followed a trial of tortures dutifully

A pregnancy stretching up to 10 months / Going through questions and answers repeatedly

A craving which turns bitter / from investigation and reckoning

Its birth becoming difficult / from all the coming and going

It starts its life an orphan / from upset and turmoil it is suffering

Condemned and doomed / to punishment and torturing

If it endeavors to request a visa / it will be led from door to door

Spending long days / waiting in anticipation for more

Sometimes the efforts are answered / mostly they are in vain for sure

If one day it came to an airport / amidst the masses it alone is filled with apprehension

Feeling awkward in the hands of the emigration officer / examining it with suspicion

 Is it actually authentic / or is it a forgery, a fraud all along

Meanwhile it calls out, Oh God! / Please be good to me now!

And if it seeks renewal / after all its striving and growing old

It’s put back to begging for satisfaction / it must prove its genuine affiliation it’d be told

To dive once more / back to the endless red-tape

It’d tire of the empty promises / panting from chasing a mirage

And so it’s always placed under doubt / and they are always suspicious of it


Could there be a solution or cure for this situation / before we lose of minds?

 

THE TALKING OAKS

THE TALKING OAKS OF CASSIOBURY PARK

This is the story of a few ancient oak trees standing close to both the river Gade and the Grand Union Canal in Cassiobury Park in Watford, Herts., United Kingdom

 

It was written for the author’s grand children, two of them twin girls age six and lived overseas. The poem was read to the twins and fired their imaginations. They couldn’t wait for their summer holiday to come to visit the trees. When they arrived in Watford, their Gran took them to the park and were excited to see the trees and suddenly started talking to them. When they heard no answer they asked their Gran why weren’t they answering them back? Their Gran was quick to explain that they are magic trees and would only talk to their grandfather!

While I stood admiring the ancient oak

I hopefully asked, tell me, can you talk

Though you don’t seem to move at all

Yet you have grown so thick and tall

The answer came in a nice whispering tone

As you know, my origin was a humble corn

In this park, I was planted a long time ago

Perhaps five or six hundred years or so

Though my trunk has grown so very thick

I my youth, I was such a skinny stick

And though my life is full of nice memories

Yet, I have also had my share of agonies

The memories that I remember and cherish best

Are of courting couples having me as a love nest   

Names have been lovingly carved in my trunk

Beautiful hearts and arrows also deeply sunk

My trunk has been home to so many squirrels

Amusing me with their love N rowdy quarrels

On my branches, birds have peacefully rested

Sang their hearts out, courted and finally nested

People love to rest in my inviting shade

After their walks in the nearby glade

Sometimes, I just love to stand still and dream

While my feet get washed by the gentle stream

Other times, I prefer relaxing in the breeze

Letting my leaves dance with perfect ease

And so my friend as you can see

A busy life can be led by an oak tree

Watford, Herts

Sept 1994