Sunday Poetry: Safaa Sheikh Hamad
Thus sang the troubadour
Coming from behind the sea of Atlas
Ships laden with cargoes of death
Hearts full of purulence
Minds that never cared about a soul
Led by the new Agamemnon
To smash Troy that never kidnapped Helen
Joy has been stripped off
Sadness hovered over the place
The vigilant watchman is sleeping with a whore
To live or to die is the same
For they both lost a meaning
The mad man in our village could not answer
Why we had to commit suicide
And give a cold shoulder to the godless heaven
Arabs of bad blood gave Agamemnon the sands
Ferdinand de Lesseps resurrected again
Had a toast of champagne with the new Pasha
Waved for the scum of the earth
Crossing Suez canal to the desert of Arabia
Sheikhs of Arabia drinking mugs of espresso
Whispered in each other`s ears the news from Cheney
Had a few words with the devil`s advocate
And decided to say “NO” while their “YES” had already pushed the button
The rains in Kirkuk washed the gloom of the earth
But rainbow never showed up
For the red prevailed
It is war , carrying an obsession of mongers
Many men will die, sang the troubadour,
Arabs
Kurds
Torkomans
Many men will die
March was an eye witness
And its nineteenth was the first to burn.
My little sister woke up in the early morning
She said Mrs. Mallaby of the yesterday's bedtime story
Met her in a dream and was all alone
In her hundredth birthday,
There was no post card
No birthday cake with hundred candles
No umbrella for the rainy Sundays
No kitten mewed at her door.
March was an eye witness
And its nineteenth was the first to burn.
Apache
Cluster bombs
Scud missiles
White phosphorous
Were all death retailers in Mesopotamia
The little Umm Qasr under the flame
Reminded us of Leningrad
Sweeping the young dead bodies with a broom
Making heaps of souls
Preparing a meal for the ravens
Shock and Awe quaked the earth
Buttons unleashed death into the eyes
That is enough, said my friend and shut the radio off,
Tell them, I said to him
Tell them we had enough
Death
Shock
Awe
Tell them the Tigris had enough bodies of assassinated dreams
Euphrates vomited the sense of clarity
Shatt-al-Arab wept the death of the palm trees
The Gulf engulfed all the bitterness
Hugged the two rivers
Buried the bodies of the dead
Washed their blood off the salty beaches
And listened to the troubadour
Who was still singing,
Many men will die.
Many men will die.
March was an eye witness,
And its nineteenth was the first to burn.
--Safaa Sheikh Hamad
(Published at Poets Against the War.)
Coming from behind the sea of Atlas
Ships laden with cargoes of death
Hearts full of purulence
Minds that never cared about a soul
Led by the new Agamemnon
To smash Troy that never kidnapped Helen
Joy has been stripped off
Sadness hovered over the place
The vigilant watchman is sleeping with a whore
To live or to die is the same
For they both lost a meaning
The mad man in our village could not answer
Why we had to commit suicide
And give a cold shoulder to the godless heaven
Arabs of bad blood gave Agamemnon the sands
Ferdinand de Lesseps resurrected again
Had a toast of champagne with the new Pasha
Waved for the scum of the earth
Crossing Suez canal to the desert of Arabia
Sheikhs of Arabia drinking mugs of espresso
Whispered in each other`s ears the news from Cheney
Had a few words with the devil`s advocate
And decided to say “NO” while their “YES” had already pushed the button
The rains in Kirkuk washed the gloom of the earth
But rainbow never showed up
For the red prevailed
It is war , carrying an obsession of mongers
Many men will die, sang the troubadour,
Arabs
Kurds
Torkomans
Many men will die
March was an eye witness
And its nineteenth was the first to burn.
My little sister woke up in the early morning
She said Mrs. Mallaby of the yesterday's bedtime story
Met her in a dream and was all alone
In her hundredth birthday,
There was no post card
No birthday cake with hundred candles
No umbrella for the rainy Sundays
No kitten mewed at her door.
March was an eye witness
And its nineteenth was the first to burn.
Apache
Cluster bombs
Scud missiles
White phosphorous
Were all death retailers in Mesopotamia
The little Umm Qasr under the flame
Reminded us of Leningrad
Sweeping the young dead bodies with a broom
Making heaps of souls
Preparing a meal for the ravens
Shock and Awe quaked the earth
Buttons unleashed death into the eyes
That is enough, said my friend and shut the radio off,
Tell them, I said to him
Tell them we had enough
Death
Shock
Awe
Tell them the Tigris had enough bodies of assassinated dreams
Euphrates vomited the sense of clarity
Shatt-al-Arab wept the death of the palm trees
The Gulf engulfed all the bitterness
Hugged the two rivers
Buried the bodies of the dead
Washed their blood off the salty beaches
And listened to the troubadour
Who was still singing,
Many men will die.
Many men will die.
March was an eye witness,
And its nineteenth was the first to burn.
--Safaa Sheikh Hamad
(Published at Poets Against the War.)
posted by Diane at 4:00 PM
1 Comments:
This is agreat poem of a young poet. The poem in my opinion is a very clear and painstaking depiction of the tragedy in Iraq. I have googled the poet`s name and found few topics .Below is his email that I got from an old blog: alnawrass2003@yahoo.com
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