All decisions are made
at a desk in another country.
They pass through
‘in’ and ‘out’ trays,
collecting signatures along the way.
Then, one day,
they become a concrete wall,
where once a few
tired weeds grew.
Afghanistan, 2017
First published in Blue Minaret
Categories:
kabul, depression, international,
Form: Free verse
End of the War
And so, it came to past
The end of the longest war
In U.S. history
The war was fought
As all wars are
Based on illusions,
Delusions and greed
Delusions that this time
We would get it right
Successfully build-up
A vibrant, peaceful prosperous
Democratic nation
Forgetting that there had never been
A peaceful prosperous country
In the land of Afghanistan
Forgetting at our peril
The graveyard of empires
The fallen British soldiers
The fallen Russian soldiers
And now the fallen American soldiers
Was the war worth
The trillion of dollars?
Was the war worth
The thousands of dead soldiers?
Will his war be remembering
As just another late imperial
Outreach by a declining world power?
Will the war be remembered
Or will it face
Down the memory hole
Of past disasters?
Categories:
kabul, america, angst, anxiety, war,
Form: Free verse
Bent wire horizon,
the day is a broken perimeter.
There is light
between the barbs
but you have to squint,
pretend the fence still holds.
People flee,
their knees are bruised
by each narrowing dawn.
The fool on the hill
blames the sun
in his eyes.
Categories:
kabul, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Tonight in Kabul
there will be terror or death.
All other choices
flew away yesterday
on a plane crowded
with last hopes.
Categories:
kabul, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Kaboom! goes Kabul
Kabul!
Oh! It Kabooms
The Taliban's rule
Categories:
kabul, conflict, grief, pain, sorrow,
Form: Rhyme
faint hues arose from a distance
as i follied beyond the grave gestures
of a calming mirage
faintly showers began
to sprinkle over the seasonal earth
thee past time frawned above it all
shattering sound near a mustered seed patch
coarse branches crawled over soiled nest
tampering with the birds homeland
twigs fell to the ground draw string hung
cracked eggs settled underneath the oak
just in time for a foxes lunch
Categories:
kabul, adventure, time,
Form: Dramatic Verse
(Written During The American Attacks On Afghanistan From The Arabian Sea)
O! The heartless callous warriors,
The children of the crowning age,
You do not see the havoc,
For you stand at the distant spot,
More than two thousand miles away,
Planning against the weaponless;
But your lacerating missiles and shells,
Miss not the targets,
They hail down on us smashing,
Blowing up the houses,
And thatched cottages with their contents,
Let, allow me bury, put in the ground,
My infant grandson that lay motionless,
In the cradle, all shredded, torn up,
Still gripping tight in his hand,
A baby doll with blue eyes and rosy cheeks,
Sprinkled with blood too.
Categories:
kabul, death, sad, war, Grandson,
Form: Prose Poetry