Literally Peace

Adrift in illusion

“War”

War..

A joke the imperialists laugh at

and the displaced children weep from

War..

A commodity traded by capitalists

exchanged by people

for their freedom

War..

The tyrants’ pastime

the destruction of the innocent

War..

A legislation for murder

in God’s name

and in the name of truth

an international ceremony

celebrating the death throes of humanity!

“Song of Ruin”

One, two, Three..

the cat jumped over my heart

and died!

At dawn, morning and night…

The cat meows

inside my head.

In cold and hunger,

there..

On the edge of the country

a child cradles the cat in his lap

and sings the song of ruin…

“The Child”

On the cold bench

the child sat,

his clothes dusted

with dirt and grit

his face gray,

his round eyes,

swollen with engorged tears,

his lips pale.

On the cold bench

the child sat,

extracted from the mouth of earth

from the mouth of death…

alone..

alone..

alone..

“Humanity’s Legacy”

Come to me, come…

Oh children of my own flesh

so I may fairly distribute what I carry

Here I have

mountains of rusted casings

of every calibre

and other mountains of missiles

also of every calibre

Here I have

internationally banned bombs

and hand grenades

for everyday use!

Here I have

armored tanks

drones

and helicopters armed with death!

Here I have

phosphorus,

sarin,

chlorine,

and anti-aircraft guns

to harvest earthly souls

fast and agile!

I have..

thousands of dunams

planted with mines

and cluster bombs

and thousands of well-prepared homes

for reconstruction!

I have..

rings made from mother’s eyes,

necklaces from children’s teeth,

whips from kind men’s skins,

gallows from virgins’ hair,

batons from prisoners’ bones,

and fine whisky glasses

from the skulls of the missing!

I have..

terror of all kinds and colors

fear smoked with humiliation

full-fat horror,

canned despair,

dried passion,

patience salted with resilience,

and dreams stripped of hope

all this and more

I will distribute to you fairly

on ornate platters of humanity,

once the nuclear states take

an open-ended truce

or agree!…

“Adrift in the café”

You are sitting here

your eyes wide open

to the end of fears

your mind boiling with the smoke of obsessions

struggling helplessly to awaken your numbed consciousness

You are here.. and not here!

Your eyes are open

to the end of tears,

staring, adrift in illusion  

at your distorted fate.

This is your cold face

and you smile..

Mountains of your ruined dreams

and the bodies of those who left

sway, suspended at the corners of your lips

and you smile..

You sit here alone,

you blink,

and notice a white numbness

spreading through the pores of your face

no one remains in the café but you,

your glass is empty,

your cigarette exhales a thread of smoke

and the filthy mirrors stare back at you

you turn around frightened  

how lost and alone you are!…

Wajeeh Zedan

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