The Wailing Wall is standing tall
So men may bang their head and bawl
But burka girls
Must hide their curls
So no one can see their tears fall
Buy your full-body burka now
Made in Texas to fit a cow
The colour is black
It fits like a sack
So you'll feel as free as a sow!
Welcome to 2022!
"Freedom of Choice" has passed to you!
Burka or bikini?
Rice bowl or hot weenie?
Yet prayers won't make your dreams come true . . . .
he throws pebbles into the ocean
rings of suspense skim the surface
concentric waves ripple the storm
inside him that nags at his peace
his friend bites into a plum
and cracks a tooth
at a kernel of truth
hidden in the fruit of passion
sometimes both of them watch
a brick layer cementing foundation
solid walls that insinuate stability
but they wish to deconstruct
such a temporary illusion
far away she has committed no crime
‘other’ than being raped by a mob
the raging crowd tear off her veil
shred the Burka to pieces
and violate her modesty once again
as stones shatter her head
and her cracked skull yields
to some unwritten law
of honour killing and dogma
four lives of many
privilege
speechless injustice
separated and too close for comfort
07th August 2021
Falluja
Who can forget this place?
When the American moved in, they shot
anything that moved,
families at the dinner table and women
hanging up washing.
A badly wounded enemy, “a soldier”, was hurt,
the only one alive in the room,
he cried out in pain and was promptly shot dead.
An embedded reporter saw this and wrote about it
he lost his job and was called a traitor.
Then ISIS came and nearly got till Baghdad,
the brutal dictator who ran the country and made
It into a modern state, women, didn´t have to wear a burka
and could go to university
That ended to when the Islamite took power, today
Iraq is a totally corrupt state; it has free election and democracy.
In Kelly Clarkson’s latest video,
she sings a lovely song as groups of
assorted people “show” themselves
like happy burka wearers.
In one scene, two lovers
come together for
a tender kiss -
lips untouched
behind
masks.
May 21, 2020
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XVIII
IF you pull a long dopey face
The least one can in this case say
You don't belong to the eskimo race
Who lament the sun sunk in iced bay
Now if you pull that long limp face
Hoping someone will notice your dismay
Best not to peek through burka-nikah lace
Take the next flight out of tent on any airway
Yet if you keep pulling that long hangdog face
Ev'ry chance you'd be called upon to act in a play
For who knows how to imitate Droopy's face
Who has heard of a cartoon dog star on Broadway
If you pulled hard at that long hangdog face
Through wearisome rehearsals day after day
Fat chance you'll be nominated to play Scarface
No long-faced dogs allowed on stage in Broadway
So if you must pull that long hangdog face
Make certain the collar the leash does not betray
The long-buried wolf in the dog might surface
And actors feast on wolf sans ShutDown back pay
© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 9, 2019
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE - Part V
IF you pull a long face
Especially on Christmas Day
You might put out-of-place
Your face on every other day
If you keep pulling a long face
No matter what anyone might say
Some faces might wear a grimace
By contracting a long face each day
Yet if you must pull a long face
Just when darkness dims day by day
Winter Solstice might lift the burka lace
To show more of wanton autumn play
Now if you go on pulling a long face
On the Gran Via while Reyes Magos lead the way
By comets and shooting cars in criss-crossing race
Pontius Pilatus Police could you in gulgülta dismay
So if you still must pull a long face
On holy church-going psalm-rhyming day
Make sure you confess all dirty-linen disgrace
" Eli Eli lama : Please don't lead me astray ! "
© T. Wignesan - Paris, December 25, 2018
The Oasis
I was visiting an oasis in the Sahara, with my dog a pointer, but the night
came so quickly I had to camp in the car, shared my food and water with
the dog. I got up before sunrise, wanted to see the birth of morning when
the land of sand turns into gold. My GPS system had failed but I followed
the way the dog was sniffing the air and drove westward.
After an hour of tedious driving, I saw the oasis, a holiday camp for well to
do Arabs, the women in burka and face veil sat on deck chairs by the oases
lake sunning themselves – or perhaps not- the men folk drank coffee and
smoked cigarettes under palm trees and their camels grazed
I saw a shining object in the sky, a drone and it fired rockets on the
oasis the scene of peace was obliterated.
Those responsible, the westerner who had come here for oil, said they
were sorry, they had thought the place was a nest of terrorists.
A sandstorm was brewing and when it was over there was not a trace
of the oasis, the Arabian paradise in the sand.
The Beheading of Nînwe
Ninwe is the ancient Syriac name for Mosul
(not to be confused with the ancient Assyrian city of Nineveh)
Burned books
Dead poets
Dark ages of Mosul
Smattered relics
Islamic horrors
Dark ages of Mosul
Education denied
Blind minds cutting out eyes
Dark ages of Mosul
Evil hearts
Dark Souls
Rulers in Mosul
The golden age of Islam long ago
Evil winds have blown
Now they live in darkness
In Burka tears
Fear
For years
Crucified Christians
Run run run
The museum is closed in Mosul
Such deep amber green eyes
Stare into me
Like arrows that so delicately pierce my heart
She is covered in a curtain of black woven cloth
Ah but her hair flows like caramel
She is concealed and wrapped, the camouflage of fear
The burka hiding the princess within
I may not see with my eyes
Oh but how my heart dreams
Of running in the meadows, laughter at our own happiness
Her voice is musical, and softly charms my soul
I am lost in illusions, of this woman in chador
She hides inside this blackness
Her heart protected by dragons
In the dragons lair so deep
I gaze intently into this darkness
I breathe the fire of rejection
I have no chance with this maiden of such beauty
You see
Her dress is blue like the summer breeze
Her hair blonde like the golden skies
She is the desire of many a suitor
As she sleeps in the drum tower
High above all of loves intentions
The bailey her only wanderings
As you see the only burka she ever wore
Was around her heart
Aafreen Gets Her Fill
By Elton Camp
The sad result of the abuse of women by religious zealots
Aafreen is waiting inside the front door
She’s had enough and won’t take more
Day-by-day she endures being isolated
It’s a life that she has thoroughly hated
She can just barely read and write
To learn even that, she had to fight
Because she’s not allowed to drive a car
It isn’t easily possible for her to go far
Anywhere outside the house she does go
She must wear a burka from head to toe
That makes it hard to see where she’s going
But nothing but her hands can be showing
From her husband she takes a beating
If any strange man she is greeting
Even if Aafreen is seriously ill
No male doctor, lest he get a thrill
She must speak only in a hushed tone
Lest by her voice she becomes known
It’s a pistol she has leveled and waiting
For the husband she’s intensely hating
The moment the tyrant steps inside
She ends forever overbearing pride
Though execution she has to expect
Such a life she just had to reject
Religious extremism causes harm
And rightly creates much alarm
The true God will call it to account some day
And then it must be punished for its evil way
There was no choice
I took the blame
I killed him
Now they can live
Tariq, Laila, Aziza, Zalmai,
They will go to Pakistan
They will have a future
I will go
The court convicts me of murder
I am put in prison
I am a hero there
Because I killed my husband.
They take me in a truck
"Are you scared?"
"Yes"
My death is coming soon
The end
The beginning?
I was able to do a good thing
I was loved
Cherished
Life is hard
But there was good in those last years
Tea with Laila
Aziza's love
Sharing the burden
I have served my purpose
I still died a faceless death
Hidden by a burka
Only a woman, nothing special
But behind this faceless face of mine
Lay a fulfilled purpose
A purpose
A life
I walked forward
I knelt
I was executed
For nothing?
No
For something.
My name is Mariam
I matter.
Run!
Where?
Pakistan.
Take the children, go
That man he will help us.
The man with the children buys the tickets
We are in line for the bus
The man whispers to the guard
We can't get on
Hopes are crushed
They detain us
They question us
I feel my face reddening under my burka
There is no hope
We are taken back to Rasheed
He is furious
He beats us
He is vicious
A monster and we can't escape
Then there is darkness
I am trapped
Bleeding
Starving
In the dark shed
There is no way out
Three days
Little Aziza and Laila
Are starving in a different dark room.
He waited for a little while
I mourned for my mother
Then it was time for me to be a wife.
I baked
I cleaned
He bought me a real present
And complemented my cooking
Then he came to me in the night
I was scared
I was only fifteen trapped in a marriage I didn't want
What was I supposed to do
Except be a good wife?
A submissive wife?
I wore a burka
I wasn't allowed to cry
I lived to please him
I was trapped.
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