A Haiku against the Wind and other poems by Ali Znaidi

A Haiku against the Wind and other poems by Ali Znaidi

Haiku poems at Yareah magazine. Today, A Haiku against the Wind.

Haiku poems are difficult to write. Few verses and deep meanings. Today, enjoy a Haiku against the Wind by Ali Znaidi and five other poems: “a flash novel,” “Why Racism,” “Shades,” “The Navel of the Night,” and “Dogs Can’t Count.”

A Haiku against the Wind

A Haiku against the Wind and other poems by Ali Znaidi

A Haiku against the Wind and other poems by Ali Znaidi Fotocredit

The grass is ashen grey now, chaff tossed into

the wind.

Her hair – afflicted by years – dry,/clutching

at the wind.

Cruel drought tyrannises her hair—rusty wires

succumbing to the rule of wind.


In the middle of the field she was hallucinating,

if there could be a cure against the wind.


But, before dying her hair pure black,

She’ll just play w/ the wind,

tease the wind,


assembling bits of her hair—a collage haiku

against the wind.


a flash novel

this chaotic coarse canvas is a catacomb & we are the carrions,

& w/ out further ado;

& w/ out a climax,

there is ars poetica—

just a denouement,

or just a further crescendo?


Why Racism?

Black nipples


white milky juice/

Red nipples


white milky juice/

Brown nipples


white milky juice/

Dark nipples


white milky juice/




& Dark

are different colours/

But the sap of life

is just one/

So why racism?

Why abuse?

& why to a mere colour

a whole soul

is reduce(d)?



in the middle of the garden

a chair & a table

over the table

two candles

a cup of tea

a packet of cigarettes

an alabaster ashtray

& Fifty Shades of Grey


where is she

where is sh

where is s

where is

where i







& the night

w/ its fifty shades

of black

is still there

breathing its jasmine

waiting for her

to come back

in her nightgown

w/ fifty shades




The Navel of the Night

The navel of the night

is searching for a cover

because the light’s butterflies

are piercing the night’s body.

Journeying in the light’s logic

is like a caged alphabet desiring


Call me whatever!

But I don’t like to be pierced,

the navel of the night said.

I don’t like to be seen.

I don’t like to exhibit.

I only like being an endless misfit’s dream

because only me challenges luminosity

in the crucible of this open dark air,

the navel of the night said.


Dogs Can’t Count

dogs are not good mathematicians

they make love everywhere

every moment

they can’t count how many bastards

they beget

because the street is there for every homeless

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Ali Znaidi lives in Redeyef, Tunisia. He graduated with a BA in Anglo-American Studies in 2002. He teaches English at Tunisian public secondary schools. He writes poetry and has an interest in literature, languages, and literary translations. His work has appeared in The Bamboo Forest, The Camel Saloon, phantom kangaroo, BoySlut,, Otoliths, Dead Snakes, Speech Therapy Poetry Zine, streetcake magazine, The Rusty Nail, Yes,Poetry, The South Townsville micro poetry journal, Shot Glass Journal, the fib review, Ink Sweat and Tears, Mad Swirl, The Mind[less] Muse, Pyrokinection, Red Fez, Full Of Crow, The Tower Journal, and other ezines. His debut poetry chapbook Experimental Ruminations was published in September 2012 by Fowlpox Press (Canada). He also writes flash fiction for the Six Sentence Social Network— He also keeps a blog about Tunisian literature—

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