Iraqi American writer. Born March 19 (Pisces)
I don’t really, by the way, have that sense of exile in a traditional way, maybe because I am actually a bird.
I'm happy to share my new essay, "Finding a Vanished City in the Most Unexpected Place," published today in @NatGeo
Finding a vanished city in the most unexpected place https://t.co/8GpL4EjJlN via @NatGeo
Dear friends in Chicago,
I’ll be in your city this Saturday evening and would be happy to see you there:
May 23, 2026
The Resistor — 5530 N. Broadway, Chicago
Reception at 7:00 PM | Program at 7:30 PM
In difficult times, gathering around poetry feels more necessary than ever.
لطفية الدليمي،
لن أرثيكِ يا صديقتي السومرية الكبيرة، فذكراكِ ستبقى حيّة في قلوب قرّائك ومحبيكِ المخلصين. لكنني لا أعرف من أي ذكرى أبدأ أو أين أنتهي.
هل أبدأ من ذلك اليوم في منتصف التسعينيات، حين عدنا معاً من دار الشؤون الثقافية لنشر كتابي ”يوميات موجة خارج البحر“؟ يومها قلتُ لكِ إنني لا أحب أغلفتهم، فسألتِني: ”كيف تريدين أن يكون الغلاف؟“ أجبتكِ: ”أريد طائرة ورقية، لا طائرة حربية.“
وما إن وصلنا إلى بيتكِ حتى فاجأتِني بتصميم غلاف يتلاءم تماماً مع رغبتي. أكملتهُ بأن كتبتُ اسمي والعنوان بخط يدي. وبعد أخذٍ وردّ مع الرقيب حول فقرة أقلقتهُ عن زيوس الذي كان «ينشغل بقصّ النجوم من السماء ولصقها على الأكتاف…» نُشر الكتاب بغلافه المميز، ببساطته الرائعة الجمال.
بعد ذلك بوقتٍ قصير غادرتُ العراق، بحقيبةٍ واحدة حشرتُ فيها ثلاثين عاماً من عمري. ومن بين ما حملتهُ معي كتابات ورسائل منكِ بخط يدكِ. سأعود إليها الآن، وأتصفّحها كما لو أنني أتصفّح تلك الأيام الطيبة معكِ، أيتها النبيلة التي كانت تطارد الضوء، وتدلّ الآخرين عليه.
رحلتِ في يوم المرأة العالمي، كأنكِ تتركين لنا وصيتكِ الأخيرة:
أن تبقى الكلمة حرة، وأن تبقى المرأة قادرة على أن تحلم وتكتب وتضيء.
وداعاً يا لطفية…يا أم أيار وأوميت ومروان
سيبقى ضوؤكِ معنا.
Lutfiya Al-Dulaimi,
I will not mourn you, my wonderful Sumerian friend, for your memory will remain alive in the hearts of your readers and devoted lovers. Yet I do not know from which memory to begin, or where to end.
Shall I begin with that day in the mid-1990s, when we returned together from the House of Cultural Affairs to publish my book Diary of a Wave Outside the Sea? That day I told you I did not like their book covers, and you asked me, “How would you like the cover to be?”
I replied, “I want a kite, not a warplane.”
As soon as we reached your home, you surprised me with a cover design that perfectly matched my wish. I completed it by writing my name and the title in my own handwriting. After some back-and-forth with the censor over a passage that worried him about Zeus—who was “busy cutting stars from the sky and pasting them onto shoulders…”—the book was finally published, its cover distinguished by its beautiful simplicity.
Shortly afterward, I left Iraq with a single suitcase in which I had squeezed thirty years of my life. Among the things I carried with me were writings and letters from you in your own handwriting.
I will return to them now and leaf through them, as if turning the pages of those good days with you—you, the noble woman who chased the light and showed it to others.
You departed on International Women’s Day, as if leaving us your final message:
that the word remain free, and that women remain able to dream, to write, and to shine.
Farewell, Lutfiya—mother of Ayar, Omet, and Marwan.
Your light will remain with us.
A lovely surprise today—I’ll be the guest poet on WCBN Living Writers this afternoon with the wonderful T. Hetzel
Join us today, Wednesday 5–6 PM (EST) on WCBN-FM 88.3 Ann Arbor, or stream live at https://t.co/v7Tv37t1uN.
Would love to have you listening 💚
Photo description: In the studio, Dunya Mikhail with engineer Jason Voss and Lara Hetzel, college radio DJ-alum
photo credit: T Hetzel