Anfal ("to take everything")
you flourished
while thirsting in the blue-black shadow of Babylon
where the sun creeps too close and glares
thrusting shifty prisms upon a young girl
who does not shield her large eyes
or shrinks from the heat
reds and oranges and yellows sought you out
hottened your skin
and you opened your arms wide
overcome with childish hope that you really could
catch them all with cool hands
and swallow them whole
swelling inside with so much beauty
there was no way to hide you
splintered blisses escaped your fingertips
still sticky from picking dates that stained deep-creased hands
the only sign that you would grow old over night
your sway like the cyrillic bend in the Euphrates
stilled tip-toeing antelope
enchanted even crusty poplar trees rooted in salty earth
who fashioned you a parasol of fingered branches
to crown their japheh-draped fawn
and tried to trick the sun
knowing that the sun covets what it creates
knowing that they will not hear you scream
knowing that they will not smell you burn
knowing that the rain will not come
they drop white leaves covering your light foot prints
In memory of Abeer Qassim Hamza, the 14-year-old girl who was raped and murdered along with her father Qassim Hamza, her mother Fikhriya Taha, and her 5-year-old sister Hadeel Qassim Hamza on March 12, 2006 in Mahmudiya, Iraq, allegedly by U.S. forces.
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20 Comments:
A very awe inspiring work here. Beautiful in its portrayal of innocence. So sad it is a requiem or, moreover, that it is required as such.
Very powerful! I love the audio - this is the first I've seen (heard) that, and it's a wonderful touch. Great to hear the poem read by its own author. Your second stanza works very well as an introduction to this young girl, while the third clearly conveys her innocence, "opened her arms wide" = very trusting, "swelling inside with so much beauty" = nice dual meaning, both describing her idealism as well as her budding adulthood.
Thanks Ozy and Mike for your insights.
This girl haunts me. I was at a musical festival last night, and even found myself "looking" for her in the crowd.
Glad you appreciate it.
Oh. I just caught the news.
Your voice contains so much emotion.. especially the "in memory... forces" part.(and the drop white leaves covering your light footprints).
Nice to read poems that aren't self centred.
Cheers
Glenn
me, self-centered?!?
oh, but in a way it is Glenn. I have to remember them so that I forget myself.
Oops crossed wires there... not you. Just meant I have been reading so much poetry of late and very little of it looks outwards to encompass people other than the poet themselves. So it was a welcome change.
I guess in the greater scheme of things they are yourself.
Aaarghh I'm tangled up in poo now.
Dear Glenn. No worries. I knew you were referring to that larger scheme. Nonetheless, the sentiment still applies.
Although you have mixed your metaphors: doesn't one get buried in poo, not tangled? ;-)
Make mine buried in blue ta.
Cheers
Glenn
Hi,
what a feeling to hear the recital of your this touching tragic poem.It's for the first time I have heard a poem along with reading it on a blog...kudos to you for bringing a wholesome experience to us all.I am gonna try that too...
Cheers
Thank you so much Abhay--BOLSHOY--I chose to read it and record I suppose as a sort of eulogy for her. She's stayed with me for several weeks now. And I didn't want to forget her.
Looking forward to hearing your voice as well!
_____________________________
And to Crunchy A.S.S.--"blue ta"? you are too clever for me; you have elevatd poo with your words, taken it out of the pot so to speak (I also like "mired" when I think of phrases involving poo); is ta poet speak, or nz kiddie speak, or mix of the two?
Ta = thanks LOL Actually i just had Bob Dylan song on my mind.. "Tangled up in Blue." Nothing deep going on at all. Reminds me of a good kiddie joke tho..
Knock KNock
Who's there?
Ipe.
Ipe who?
Ha ha.
save lebanon...save our humanity
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it's very beautiful Scheherazade i love the way you speak each name and the place where they lived i read about it but it was buried in numbness in my mind there was no picture of Abeer or her family no history no requiem until yours gave her life
This is too painful; the supposedly saviour of Iraq becomes the tormentor.
Pregnant with being filled with beauty then driven to be ugliness' martyr. It is so amazing how such contradictory things, how regression gives us the past, present and (unfortunately) future all at once.
Rohn: thank you for your generous praise; i do appreciate it; i didn't want to forget her
Danny: this was painful to write as well; but necessary; i can't even begin to express or articulate--not yet at least--about the atrocities in Lebanon and Gaza; though this has come as no surprise...we are predictable in our monstrous tendencies aren't we?
Russell: thanks for visiting; Konyechno, davai "link" (?) i'm flattered
I'm somewhat speechless... The way you eulogized Abeer reminds me of a little girl whose picture I clipped out of the newspaper in 1995 after the Oklahoma City bombing. Her name was Baylee Almon and I'll never forget her. She was about two years old, innocent, helpless, and burned alive. She still haunts me.
This is one of my favorites. Bittersweet. That's precisely why I wrote it. So I wouldn't forget her.
Thank you for remembering Anfal
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