Khaled Khudayda Hussein Al-Sheikh (Iraq)

Khaled Khudayda Hussein Al-Sheikh (Iraq)
Sinjar, Mosul / Iraq, born 1.1.1978
Member of the General Union for Literature and Writers in Iraq
Member of the Iraqi Internet Writers Union
Director of the International Federation of Arab Press office
Representative of the University of Global Cultural Talents in Germany
Founder of Cultural House in my years-
My releases ..
1- The lover child in 2004 issued me a poetic collection
2- In my heart, the remains of a woman in 2005 are a poetic collection
3- Sanctity of Nature in Yazidi Thought, 2006. Research
4- Sinjar The Mother of Sorrows in 2010, a collection of poems
5- Ash and sadness of the year 2011 a poetic collection
6- CD Hair of 2012 Poetry Collection
7- An electronic poetry book, in the title of a homeland, in the year 2014.
8- 75 tombs in the heart of Shankal Poetry about Lina Publishing and Distribution 2019
9- Ezidiyat behind bars felt about Lina Publishing and Distribution 2019
My participation in international books
8- I have nothing but dreams, a joint book of poetry issued in Israel
9- South of the land of giving, a joint poetry book, published in Lebanon
10 – A poetry book by a group of poets of Chincal issued in Iraqi Kurdistan
11- Encyclopedia of Poets of Mosul .. Encyclopedia of more than 300 poets and poets of Mosul.
12- Divine Women is a common book by international poets .. Serbia
13- The international book of a group of poets from the world … in order to not forget the war … The book about the war on Iraq 2003
About the Belgrade Mesopotamia Cultural Center. Serbia
14 – Poetry book of the International Festival of Mesopotamia Poetry 2019.
My participation in the poem “The Road to Schincal”
The Images of the Black August
As I am walking above the sea
I saw corpses of the refugees among coral reef looking like angels
The Saddened faces that damaged by the sea waves are waiting for the shark’s teeth
They fled from the oppressive rulers and operative’s reports
They wanted to make a beautiful dream
Not inside the bubbles
Not under the wings of the sons of prostitutes
They said: This place not for us! Our ancestors came here In search of myths
They said: We do not want their paradise
We seek the hell of infidels
So that we do not see the faces of the geek
They said: It is difficult for us to leave the Fig Mountain
And the temples of the sun
They said: We were satisfied with living In our clay villages
Happy to eat the dry black wheat bread
They said: Out in that beautiful place
We built our nests and planted our wheat spikes with sweat and fatigue
They said: We didn’t know that we would drink from their sickness
And we would be burned by the fire of their hatred
As I am walking over the dust of stations, I saw the remains of the faces clad with dead cloth
In the villages where the sun does not shine
The figs that are coated with dust
Swish tombs worn between the walls of lament
I find only the dead
And the living also as dead
They are walking backwards
Their stomachs are empty
Their eyes are filled with dust
Their sleeves are covered with blood
None is here except to the long night
The terrible silence
And the operative’s dogs
Shadow of the Death
I am a shadow… the shadow is I
You are a shadow… the shadow is you
We are the shadows… the shadows are we
Abandoned and persecuted, wherever you are
Your existence doesn’t make any difference
You are exist only by the name
You don’t have any importance
Wish you were not exist at all
You can twaddle…Say whatever you want
No one hears your screams
No difference among colors you raise
You have a prince like a donkey who doesn’t feel your pain
You have Baba (The religious Spiritual Leader), as a toy in the hands of people who sold you over for nothing
You have the religious men who try to shut you down with fake and lies
You have leaders who sold your women and properties
You have souteneurs who planted the daggers in your hearts
You are getting killed with no guilt
Getting separated and scattered in the world with no guilt
Living in construction buildings with no roofs with no guilt
Hungry… Naked… Sick…
That’s what you have become
You have lost everything
Your life and dignity
You have lost the most honorable thing you had
Wish it was only by losing your properties
So you who is traveling under the dust of your silence
I am a shadow.. you are a shadow… We are the shadows
You have no relief, no freedom or peace except if you die

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