Get Your Premium Membership

Prayers

Perched high upon the escarpment of sandstone rubble, the boy sat, shaded from the rising of the sun in the shadow of Kings. Sharp eyed he preyed upon the tourist below, and to his God Allah. His path was a treacherous one looped and twisting like the snakes of ochre gold shone cresting the brow of Ramesses in the unearthly Valley of the Kings; far from the osprey and marsh grass of the beloved Nile. Below the boy, on a zigzag path between the mouth-like openings to the netherworld, tourists swarm, ants on a mound of honey stone suckers of sweetness, oblivious, as they had done for centuries. He sat as his father before him hunkered down knees to chest the vulture heraldic creature of Upper Egypt death eater, little had changed except now the robbers wore blue jeans and not the hajab. He had earned his small bit of the twentieth century..hawking

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 2/2/2011 9:00:00 AM
there is something so disturbing here yet very spiritual in tone... a smashin display of astounding conrast much like a the hubris of a prayer... delighted, debs! :) huggs, nette
Login to Reply
Date: 1/23/2011 11:33:00 PM
wow, great writing again, DEb. I am glad I finally saw this one. Some of that inspiration from your trip, I presume!
Login to Reply
Date: 1/7/2011 6:05:00 PM
Are u OK TEACH? missed u these past two days. luv.. we are getting more snow on top of this snow and I think they are both coming your way luv... brace yourself.. pupil... luv..
Login to Reply
Date: 1/7/2011 4:50:00 PM
I did see the boy hunkered in waiting ~ a coiled snake waiting to strike~nice imagery~enjoyed !
Login to Reply
Date: 1/7/2011 4:44:00 PM
You have brought great inspiration home from your travels....this story reveals how observant you are ...unlike what a tourist most often brings back...such insight to see the blue jeans and western thieves that prey on their survival.
Login to Reply
Date: 1/6/2011 6:30:00 AM
This write is not only perfectly poetic, but informative ! If I ever get to take this challenging journey, mine eyes will be "vulture" sharp, for the lil' purse snatcher ! *smiles* Great write dear poet ! I'm glad that you decided to continue blessing us with your writes on your journey to Egypt ! much love, james
Login to Reply
Date: 1/5/2011 6:15:00 PM
The boy was preying on the tourists and praying for a fat mark, sigh, he swooped down stole purse and fled back up the rubble pile on the otherside!
Login to Reply
Date: 1/5/2011 11:04:00 AM
Very good poetics. I felt Italian poetic school with Mediterranean magnificent imagery. Only trouble me couplets, which are hardly needed to slow the course of the Nile.
Login to Reply
Date: 1/5/2011 7:33:00 AM
I loved this story of the "praying boy" the words just flowed ~beautifully~
Login to Reply
Date: 1/4/2011 4:37:00 PM
Little has changed. The class separation has been there since Noah's time. The kid on the hill might have a cell phone now but little has changed. Great poem. Vince
Login to Reply
Date: 1/4/2011 4:13:00 PM
Intriguing piece Deb and entertaining reading about the boy ..your descriptions are quite image filled and impressive luv... a trip to remember for all time....
Login to Reply
Date: 1/4/2011 4:09:00 PM
Deborah this poem is excellent in every aspect - a favorite - Very powerful and beautiful - God Bless, mj
Login to Reply
Date: 1/4/2011 2:26:00 PM
you painted a very clear picture, of what you described from thought, life and study. is this a picture of the detail and beauty from within or from outside. both very talented. thank you, chuck
Login to Reply
Date: 1/4/2011 11:47:00 AM
mystical is the word, deborah... wonderful attention to details with spellbinding images... this boy intrigues me no end! salute! :) nette
Login to Reply
Date: 1/4/2011 9:47:00 AM
Your poetry stands out in the front... well written piece my dear poet friend
Login to Reply
Date: 1/4/2011 9:32:00 AM
Interesting how little really changes in the big picture. I whine a lot about times now but we had nothing when I was a kid and I wouldn't trade that childhood for a lifetime of riches. The times have changed but little else. Vince
Login to Reply

Book: Shattered Sighs