AFP photo
By
Joey Ho
To the Iraqi Man on CNN Whose Heart
Shattered a Sound I’ve Never Heard Before
– after the ISIS bomb attack in Baghdad on 4 July 2016
You must have lost your wife, your sons or your daughters
in the rubbles, what was once a shopping center.
You must have known death rather well in the past years,
news of your country bombed and torched has bled your ears.
Though this cry, this crumbling of yours caught on camera:
this damned howl of a newly hollowed-out father
wasn’t anything you’d have known your tears could do,
when your world’s a wreck and you’ve no loves left but you.
I can afford to turn away from terror’s dance,
but you are stranded, caught up in this hellish trance.
I know no words nor condolences could suffice,
save the ending of fire, bringing back of lives.
But two hundred and ninety two heartbreaks combined –
the world, though disrupted, still sleeps soundly tonight.
Boys with Gun
– on William Klein’s Gun 1, New York (1955)
You, the boy with the gun,
the twisted face, disfigured like
Al Pacino’s on a bloody shoot-out –
where did you get that grit from,
that anger from,
that menacing rage from, so that
when asked to pose
you knew to point your toy
weapon at my face,
and to put on that boyish
taunt of terror?
Jaws clenched tight,
lips pulled taut,
brows knitted, and
eyes squinted into two thin hollows,
the shadows of your face glared,
I’m going to fucking shoot you!
I’m going to fucking kill you!
I’m going to fucking blow your bloody head off!
And your friend in his track jacket,
Face glowing almost holy,
reaching for your arm with his
child-hand – was he
disarming your triggered spirit, or
was his slight smile sly, and
his eyes full of mischief,
cheering for fire?
All the while,
adulthood loomed, turned away.
No Comments Yet!
You can be first to comment this post!