samedi 16 mai 2009

Iraq Haiku Series V: Child Martyr

i am floating now

above the wreckage
i am free to come and go

mother is at home

she is making our couscous

she breathes in its steam

sister is sewing

a tattered pant's cuff
from my brother's hand-me-downs

i am the baby

the one coddled tight

the light in everyone's heart

mountains rise and rivers flow
cities are spilling
with cars and people

i do not feel pain
as i float past you

i am beyond all pain now

my white-red garments

fall down to the ground
i am a naked angel

my mother adds salt

and raisins to the couscous

sister is singing

brother runs to me

or what was once me
but i'm free to come and go

i bend my two arms

into a breaststroke
i dive headlong into sky

pure iraqi sky
where prayers rise up
like the sweet steam of couscous

go to Iraqi Haiku Series I: Iraqi here

2 commentaires:

Pisces Iscariot a dit…

Chilling - this brought back a memory from my time as a conscript in the South African Defence Force in 1980/81 - We were part of an invasion of Angola and one evening after bathing and shaving in the brown river we discovered corpses floating upstream - if I didn't feel dirty before (a 17 year old boy with premature misgivings about my country) I sure did afterwards

Anonyme a dit…

Friend you have created here a brilliant retention of innocence through some repetitive phrasing. I should think that this might have been the hardest to do.