songanddancegirl

"It's about words, and words are all I have…"

Archive for the day “August 24, 2015”

SWORD

SOMEWHERE HE RIDES WITH A CAPE+PLUMED HAT

HIS SWORD HELD HIGH

Khaled al-Assad  preserver of Roman antiquities   Columns

rising out of the desert in Syria!  No more   Born in Palmyra

retired octogenarian  What strangefruit is he?   Now hanging

from a pole  after 3 weeks in captivity

 

Islamic State abhors symbols of Western idolatry   Haters with

a flair for stagecraft: orange jumpsuits  carving knives +bulldozers

This brutal execution to eradicate paganism    A new iteration of

burn the witch?   Or loot the art of now gassed prisoners?

 

This  Director of Idols   Convenor of Infidel Conferences  taken to

the market square  charges against him hanging from his neck   Named

his daughter Zenobia  after 3rd century Queen  directed Palmyra Museum

for forty years   6 books   leading expert on Syrian culture+treasures

 

Had he remained a shepherd   he would likely be under a cold moon  his

tent filled with family   Mr. al-Assad  believer in destiny  passed through

the market square daily  +often paused under the canopy  leaning against

the further most pole  a private sanctuary  Blood red sun casting shadows

at his feet

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I was born in Palmyra. And I will stay in Palmyra. And not leave even

if it costs me my blood.  Khaled al-Assad  June 2015

 

roman columns palmyra

ISIS Palmyra ISIS syria 2

 

 

Summer 2015

 

 

SHOE

WAITING FOR THE OTHER SHOE

to drop   one neon green runner  still dangling

on wires   since freezing february day  2013   crack

house larry has moved away  also a dj   5,000 tunes

1 blaring at  all times   now american staffordshires

bark into starry nights   +there’s no drying the tears of

hot crack wife

 

larry bought a bungalow down the street   same car too

+look alike wife   he is friendlier these days   +we no longer

complain   tunes now raising neighbour’s roofs    yesterday

as he slouched down street  pants hanging around his knees

crack house larry whispered to me:

 

I’ll be your your man    poet   climb aboard!

 

it’s twilight now  +the last green shoe  spins in wicked breeze

as old poet muses on lighting out for new territory   black keys

moaning ceaselessly    late august in the year  twenty fifteen

__

 

 

Summer   2015

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