#baghdad
(Pre: Guernica 1937 – Baghdad 2003–Ukraine 2022)
The horse is Guernica’s, Baghdad’s, Kyiv’s shriek.
The bull is the state, the shroud, the briefing’s lie.
My thumb recalls the blast, the psychic breach.
A net of needles—Mariupol’s sky.
The tower’s hair is steel, in shards, it cries,
Spinning the drained grape of work, the question: Why?
More the bitten grasp than the prey’s demise.
The memory-dog climbs the oak where rubble lies,
Showing what we knew, with our averted eyes.
We write, and so we participate, devise
A witness from the story we revise.
That we love and suffer makes the silent shriek rise.
A horse is a horse. A bull is a bull.
Oct 21, 2025
Oct 21, 2025 at 3:36 AM UTC
I had the unfortunate privilege of participating in a war
As an immediate life experience
This afforded me the luxury of indifference
While eliminating the sanguine notion of naiveté
Bravo 6 once told me - the only easy day was yesterday
Existing in a constant state of crisis justifies our history of violence
Collectively vindicates informed decisions to use lethal force without tolerance
License to search and destroy hostiles with extreme prejudice
Collateral damage merely an unfortunate expenditure of doing business
This is the merely the price of war
The cost is the bones and broken lives we leave behind as just-cause
When we are redeployed to kick down someone else’s door
Eventually in time, all these sins will follow us home
And war will make corpse of us all
Mar 21, 2025
Mar 21, 2025 at 7:34 AM UTC
A symphony for Baghdad:
Words in crimson
On flimsy placards
Held high with anger
Frustration writ
On their ragged features.
The law is hard but it is the law
Says the hypocritical politician
Who bends them all
“Enough is enough”, the people said
Teargas and bullets will not make us sway
Release your bombs and fire your bullets,
Let our blood water this holy ground
Our motherland
But we will not let you stay.
Centuries have passed
Since Sheherezade told her tale
Years have passed since Aladdin’s magic lamp
First touched the minds of the young ones.
Is it a surprise that the young are dead?
Baghdad has fallen
Prey to the hands of those
Who support murdering their brethren and children.
The sun rose and set
The numbers went from thirty to three hundred
And no one cared.
Winners in Baghdad these days are those
Who returns home from the protests
Wearing a necklace of half a metal heart for a pendant
Knowing the other half was lost to the bullets.
They share stories of passion and fury
To hide the void within
Their hope, their faith, lost.
Their sacrifices in vain.
The protests grow old
With news, numbers and names of the players
Of this sick, faux patriotic game.
Lebanon:
The Chaos has affected them far too long
They now out there looking for peace and hope to now spread out more
Havoc almost birthed, they circle and stop the creation
Letting the higher-ups know
Who brings the forth the negatives and hurt
Food and shelter provided
Streets cleaned and maintained for use by all
Wish the world could learn how to function together like this
Imagine a world where
Little children are smiling, greeting other children from different countries and cultures
Living and playing together without a worry in the world
Men and women living in harmony and happiness
Peace an actuality in the world
But that’s only in your head
In reality
Little children are bombed and interrupted by death
Men rather **** the women and **** or shoot down the men that don’t agree with or are against them
Peace is being held on a leash by Chaos
That’s happening in front of your eyes
And right now, you’re probably just gonna read it, like it and move on, but nope.
I see people sharing
More is needed to be done
As I said, I and my friends are bringing the tools
All you have to do is use them properly
If you really want to see peace, you’ll know what to do
I know what I’m doing
Perspective I gained
And now I’m making sure it happens.
Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 11:51 AM UTC
Stories help your heart think
About the wisdoms of pain
About the plots of lives
And the ends of fights
We are not broken...
We are still fighting.
There is a huge difference!
Those who know how to lose
Can never be beaten
Our story is our fait
We write everyday
By standing up again
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
There you are
Glorious and mighty
Proud in every smile
Defying every plot
Of the darkest nights
There you are
Crushing all hopes
Of your demise
Malicious wishes
To undermine the sacrifice
Of your people
A push does not suffice
To throw over a mountain
No one can hijack a beauty
Guarded so closely
By thousand and one knights
There you soar
Higher than the sky
City of Titans
My Baghdad
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 12:06 AM UTC
*The world seems apathetic to
The agonies of those who live
In remote countries; deaf to
The cries that scorch the weeping wind.
It’s time that we open our eyes
& understand that terror happens
On every corner of the map,
Not simply nations close to home.
It’s time that we open our hearts
& learn to sympathize with all
Casualties of disaster,
Regardless of their differences.
It’s time that we open our minds
& realize solutions for
The suffering are well within
Our reach, but only if we want them.
The human race can overcome anything,
But only if we stand together as one.
A prayer to Baghdad;
A prayer to Istanbul;
A prayer to Jeddah;
A prayer to Dhaka.
And anywhere I may have missed.*
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 7:17 PM UTC
The guns won.
Humanity lost.
The love we thought we all shared,
Shattered and the shards pierced our eyes.
The dead wanted to stay dead,
But those who are slaughtered from the soul
Want all of us to be that way too.
Hollow
Dry
Hungry
Loveless.
On this day, I don't even want to pray.
I have seen what religion does to people.
It's not a War that's brewing,
It's a force field:
One that hides us from each other,
One that forbids communication.
We are a confused people.
Painting our false faces won't help.
And now,
I don't know what will.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC