After a long journey with wars, moving, and exile, life has grounded me like coffee beans. My mother used to say that 'coffee beans have less value as whole beans.' They must be painfully grounded to become this delicious, stimulating, and awakening drink called 'coffee'.

As our knowledge increases, so does our desire to maintain silence and hide from the world whose face is washed every morning with the blood of countless innocent people.

We both found much more truth in poems than in the rhetoric of those who write to flirt with the power of their time, or those who only speak the 'truth' once the word 'former' becomes attached to their job titles. We both believed that powerful writing is a combination of madness and reason, observation and courage.

I often struggle with every word I try to put on paper: there is always a voice within me screaming, ‘It is all useless! The world has gone totally deaf and blind!’But then another voice comes: ‘Sitting in a dark corner and closing your door and windows is also useless!’ And so, until the world decides to open its ears and its eyes, do I have any choice but to bleed on the endless snows of my blank pages?

I dedicate these poems to all the people who were prematurely cut from their times and places. To each human soul that wilted and lost its fragrance in exile.

I apologize in advance for not saying ‘here’s to a good luck,’ because I do not believe in luck. And if good luck does exist, I don’t need it anymore.

Life has taught me not to shoot messengers, no matter how bad and discouraging the news.

Life has taught me not to shoot messengers, no matter how bad and discouraging the news. It is more important to pay attention to those crafting the message!

I am writing to say something, but not because I was asked to, but because I really have something to say…I only say something when my words, like ripe fruit, can no longer hold onto the branch and must confront the hard and unforgiving ground they are about to encounter.