There is treachery afoot
On the highest levels
Treason
Sedition
Malevolent power
From those that rule us
In their Ivory towers
Handing out laws
Made for men
That apply for all
Except to them
Greed and corruption
As they stuff their pockets
Help their buddies
All the while
Mock us
They think that we
Are just the little people
Dim and stupid
So far beneath them
But they have forgotten
That we are the sons of legends
Born of the Gods of the past
As surely as Hercules himself
But we are born of the Gods of freedom
Of Washington and Jefferson and Madison
Davey Crockett and Daniel Boone
The sons born of America
Birthed out in bravery and blood
And we see your treachery
And your blatant disregard
For freedom and law
And soon
The sons and daughters of America
Will be coming for you

We were on a road trip , on our way to meet the cousins of my father for the first time. I couldnt help but be curious about how they looked like. What they were like.  Year by year I'd discover more family members that I never knew about.

"Mom, they lived in Basrah?"

"Yes , they had."

"Huh..Basrah" I said sarcastically.

"Are they good people?" I asked.

"Yes they are, why wouldnt they be?" She said with a confused look in her eyes.

"When was the last time you saw them?" I asked, not ignoring her question quite much.

"Years ago." I was still confused because she did not number the years.

"How come I didnt meet them when i went to basrah with dad 2 years ago ?" I asked.

"Last time I had seen them myself was before we came to this country." She said.

"8 years." As I realized.

"I dont think so mom. People of iraq changed. A lot. From my latest visit." And perhaps the last visit it would be, I thought.

"Trust me on this dear." "Their father is as elegant and as royal as the head of ministry. He used to manage the biggest hotel in Iraq before he had retired." She said.

Suddenly the old images of iraq flashed in my head, and along came the current image of iraq, The comparison in my head between how great iraq used to be, how rich and beautiful the land Basrah was and how it is all gone. No admiration left, it's all an intricate matter.

The stories I hear about Iraq and the wars and the people of iraq, are close to infinity if you saw the destruction that occurred. The beautiful past, is all we have.

Sometimes, I feel like home doesnt even exist.
"Iraq". Those four letters , it's like thy dont mean anything to me anymore.
A home is a place that holds you, that keeps you warm. When did iraq ever hold me? Other than holding me backwards not forward. Other than leaving the poor cold and the rich hungry too. Where did all the blessings go? Where are the beautiful green lands? The River Tigris and Euphrates ? Helicobacter ?

It's hard to IMAGINE a country with such power, such good , such greatness , such grandeur,  magnificence, fall. But it's even harder, to WATCH it fall , and having nothing in your hands to do about it.

Such blessings, that got destroyed , on the hands of those who envied it once. The enemies destroyed the only thing that I had to believe was home.

"You know mom.. Sometimes I hate Iraq."
"Why?"
"Because it ruined our lives."

Silence filled the car for a couple of moments before anyone spoke. It was true, Iraq did  destroy us along. Iraq ruined our lives and everywhere we went our identiy was exposed but not lived by others. We once had a wealthy country, now the country is dying and the people are shattered. Mother knew it was true, even more than me, because i was just a child who couldnt remember and didnt live half the events mom had to go through. She witnessed it all.


"No one can hate their country dear, it is still your country."

It was true too, wherever I shall go, I will make my country proud, and not just a maybe, one day,Iraq will rise again, and I will have enough faith in my country that it will.
My country is not destroyed, my country lives peacefully in my heart. The people may ruin it, but it will always be as great as it used to be in my eyes.

Here we go again
Back and forth about the flaws I need to mend
Just because I tend to enjoy the thought of my end
And that I'm always dressed in black when I'm out with my friends
You sit there and wonder what could've happened
to that boy oh so happy
Now a lover of anarchy and a hater of society
How grandmother do you see such beauty in conformity?
Have you taken into consideration this reality?
The idea of order and balance is rapidly
Turning into a travesty
Because of mankind's brutality
and false sense of morality
There's vanity and inhumanity
Against ones own sexuality
And people have the audacity
to critically antagonize those for their God given nationality
While this wonderful country
Goes further intro bankruptcy
So continue to live your keen little fantasy
That we are all living happily and equally
Your views have such opacity
That I can see right through your irrationality
And your thinning mentality
So please continue to criticize me
Please provide some amnesty
Don't listen to me I'm just crazy
Remember? You can't trust me because everything I say is blasphemy
So excuse my insanity
And allow me to gulp down these pills so carefully
Not to take more than I should be
And I'll just vegetate amongst people like a cavity
An outcast to your perfect **society

Hopeful,
we cities are quiet
waiting for the news to come.
We sense the message
and the terrible waiting continues.
Alone,
we pray for release from
our cruel bondsman;
the mankind
that houses inside our stomachs,
disturbing the peace
with grief
and evil.
Waiting,
Waiting,
We listen as the walls crumble and fall
as they,
our protected,
will too one day.
We wait-
silent and hopeful
for peace
that comes with regret
at the cost of man's crown
and fur robe-
Weeping,
we cities know what awaits in the skies
and the seas
and the rivers,
in the very earth we are built upon-
in the hands of our youth-
guns
and rifles
and bombs-
words of venom and acid,
fearful loathing
and fretful tears
shed over the aging walls
that wearily stand tall in defense of a broken people's heart-
disgorging their rage onto a city
that can no longer hold their bursting anger
spilling out from our cracked barriers
and lashing like fire
helped along by a vengeful wind.
Our streets and markets bleed
for the young ones of the future,
hearing their pain
their terror whispered in unheeded prayers
screamed into dark alleyways
beaten from their lips as they deny themselves-
Oh children...
Our walls are too weak to hide you,
our guidance too frail and unheeded.
We cannot stand strong this time;
Forgive us,
forgive us as we fall to dust.

Urbanization by Dakota Pizzi
Theres a house of Fallen Timber,
Not far from me or you,
That flourished once in the summer When the sky was Golden hues.
Its been trampled down by the people of hardened stone,
Who are cold to nature's many unknowns.
So they chop away and burn it down As gray clouds fill the sky,
And what's left of her majesty the forest,
Is nothing but my lonely sigh.

This town is hateful and cold
Its smothered my dreams since I was 6 years old
These people have nothing to do
But sit around and crush you

They shoot crude stares
How can I not be aware
they laugh at all I hold dear
Alas only three more years

Until I'm gone
Able to fly to my own song
able to awake to open arms
Free of all alarms

three more years
Till then I must remain here
In this secluded town
I will never let you bring me down