PROTEST POEM

I nightmare trembling backs:
Yellow birds
turned path beneath my feet.
Advancement traded for clipped wings
and broken beaks. Shoulder-blades sharp under
Bloodied steps.
I footprint a mandala
Of this cycle
In which Lavinia always loses her tongue
And eyeballs roll endlessly down corridors
Of exploded homes.
Each heart beat a bomb blast.
Each night-light to read by an extinction.
Each new purchase a child beaten and raped.
In countries I was never taught the name of.
Consumption became destruction
Before I could fit into my shoes-
How else was I supposed to walk to school?
Somebody find me the road less travelled by
The one that isn’t lined
with starved refugees,
decimated albalad al’asli

and MPs raping democracy
#notinmyname

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5 thoughts on “PROTEST POEM

    1. I wrote this poem in response to the British government deciding to air-strike Syria killing hundred of innocent citizens. It’s about the price of being privileged in a consumerist society when each consumerist choice has a flip-side on the other side of the world: the child labour, poverty and environmental damage that goes into our way of life. I grew up in a time of anger of the British government for initiating war on Iraq and it feels as though time is just repeating itself. This poem is about how this violence and exploitation is cyclical and how the damage will only build momentum and carry everyone with it, even the privileged.

      Liked by 2 people

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