To Market

A short preface to this poem is in order, I believe. The main character, if you will, is a widowed, young Iraqi mother living in Baghdad during the worst violence of the civil war and occupation. It is about the horror she faces on a normal trip to the local outdoor market. She is just trying to get food and other necessary goods for herself and her children, but a suicide bomber packed among the civilians sows chaos soon after she arrives.

While atrocities like this do not happen as often now as they did in past years, they do still occur. There is a kind of low-level violence that can be compared directly to the 15 year civil war in Lebanon in terms of lethality. Iraq is still a terribly violent place by world historical standards, but things are not nearly as bad as they were a couple of years ago.

This relative calm has mainly settled in because ethnic cleansing has been almost completely achieved, most importantly in Baghdad, but also throughout Iraq. The different sects are separated into fortified neighborhoods, many in Baghdad surrounded by high blast walls. The US has also successfully bribed many Sunni tribal leaders (known as the Sons of Iraq or the Sunni Awakening Councils) into supporting American efforts against al-Qaeda in Iraq, which has reduced the suicide bombings - al-Qaeda's favored tactic for stoking the fires of sectarian violence.

How much longer the Sons of Iraq continue to fight against other Sunnis and not against the US or, most importantly, the Shiite-dominated Iraqi government, remains to be seen. The US or the Iraqi government must continue to pay them until and unless they are given some kind of legitimate role in the government, which the Shiite leaders are very reluctant to do. The provincial elections at the end of this month will be the first elections the Sunnis participate in en masse and will result in new power dynamics, possibly undermining al-Maliki's legitimacy if his coalition does poorly.

Really, the armed factions (a.k.a. everybody - every political group must have a militia [or an army] to survive in Iraq) are just waiting for the US to leave so that things can really be settled and the true power of each group can be determined. The longer the US stays, the longer this is put off, but it has to happen eventually. The only question is whether it will happen relatively peacefully (through the rise and fall of coalitions and other political wrangling), or whether the resulting violence will make 2006 look like a good year for the ordinary Iraqi.

Without further ado, here is the poem.

Feet swift,
Head down,
Fists balled,
Eyes averted,
Teeth grinding,
I walk to the market.
My family must eat.

Not harassed today,
I wore the proper garb,
And moved quickly,
But not too quickly.
Took the right route,
Crossed the right streets,
Whispered my prayers,
And made it to the square,
So that my family may eat.

Among the other women,
Among the children,
Among the old men,
Among the animals,
I weave and bargain,
Carrying the things that,
Will allow my family to eat.

My hand extends out,
I am trying to pay,
But there is a roar,
For just a brief moment,
And now I am deaf,
Except for a ringing;
Mosquitoes in my ears,
As I am jerked through space.

The world is in chaos,
As the brief moment expands.
My feet can find no ground,
My eyes can make no sense,
My body is in no pain,
Until I suddenly stop,
Grasping in vain for what I held.

Now I can feel the piercing wounds,
Now I see the carnage-strewn ground,
And the bodies I lie among, but smoke burns my eyes.
Now I can hear only faintly, muffled,
Screams wafting in through great walls,
Of stone and cries miles away, but pain wracks my head.
I am crumpled and I can taste the blood,
Pooling in my mouth.

A boy crouches over me,
Fiercely searching my eyes.
He sees I am not his mother,
And so he hurries away,
To turn over corpses.
One consolation I now have:
That I will not live for years,
To be haunted by the child’s face.

Though, I am left with one thought,
That contains horror to match his:
Now how will my family eat?

Can You Tell Me?

Can you tell me how long
it takes tale to become song?

Can you tell me how long
it takes widow to move on?

Can you tell me wherefore
father rushes off to war?

Can you tell me wherefore
this bullet he cannot endure?

Can you tell me where now
son lies in grave so shallow?

Can you tell me where now
daughter rests in fields fallow?

Can you tell me how should
this be for some greater good?

Can you tell me how should
this endless death be withstood?

For I will not know peace;
in my grave restless lay I.

Mother will not know peace;
empty home to occupy.

Family broken, gone;
not one could save another.

Hope deserted and dead;
sister could not mourn brother.

So please, spare us your shouts
of victory and glory.

We will not join in your
rabid dance, song, or story.

For we know that in time
lust will overtake these men.

And we will be dying
over and over again.

Sleepwalking My Way to Victory

I don't know about you, but I'm going to win.
I'm going to win it all.
I don't know what it is I'm winning,
But, my gut tells me, I'm going to win anyway.
You can't stop me.
My feet will not drag and my spine will not bend.

I'm going to win, even if you don't like me.
I'm going to win, even if you have to die for it.
I'm going to win, even if I have to yell.
I'm going to win, even if I have to lie.

Losing is not an option, so it won't happen.
If you talk about losing, you're a traitor.
If you talk about losing, you're a coward.
My ears and eyes can't hear and see losing,
So that makes me better than you'll ever be.

You'll know I've won when you hear me screaming,
"I've won! I've won! Look who's won! It's me!"

Don't even try to tell me I've lost.
I never lose.
Maybe you lose.
Other people lose.
I never lose.
I never run away from a problem I can't fix.
I destroy all of my problems.
I destroy them.

I will win if it's easy.
I will win, even if it's hard.
I will win, though it's impossible.

Hey, I see you're sleepwalking, too.
I'm going to win, how about you?
What? It's not about winning and losing?
You don't want me to win, do you?
That's what you're getting at, isn't it?

Well, I'll win for you, too.
I'll win for everybody who deserves to win.
I dreamt it would happen,
While I walked past the sink,
Right before I bumped into you.
Now get out of my way,
I have something to win,
Though I don't know what it is.

Torrential Rain, Wars and Football...Whew!

Wow, what a day...so much has been happening in the world and in my life lately that I'm not even sure where I'd begin. Well, where I'd begin maybe isn't tough...it's where I'd go from there, and from there, and from there without being too damn random.

I guess I'll start with the usual conversation set piece. You know, the thing that people with nothing to talk about always wind up talking about...the weather.

Yea, so I live in Washington, DC...otherwise known as Flood Zone #1. The rain has been absolutely ridiculous around here lately. I was walking down Wisconsin Avenue this afternoon and got caught in this downpour that was straight out of a Kurosawa film (think Rashomon). It was incredible...I actually saw the rain approaching me from further down the street. Granted, I knew it was coming by the wind and the heavy, dark clouds, but right before it hit I looked up the street and saw that this gray curtain had descended over the scene a few blocks ahead of me. My jaw dropped as I realized a near solid wall of water was rapidly approaching me.

Within seconds I was drenched. Nonetheless, I quickly darted under the awning of the nearest shop, which happened to be a little place that sold Persian rugs. So there I stood for a full fifteen minutes admiring the beautiful rugs, poofs, and clothing with one turn, and the awesome torrent, the actual streams of run-off rolling down the sidewalk, and the vast lake that had formed at the nearest intersection with another.

I really enjoy storms. Never mind that I was going to be late for my other job.

So, then I check the BBC News website later tonight and find out...Israel has invaded Gaza. They almost stayed out for a year. Almost a whole year! I shudder to think of what the abducted soldiers' captors did with him once they heard that the IDF tanks were rolling in. Do they really think that they'll find him alive? I hope they do. I hope he is shown mercy...he's just a kid. I also hope that Palestinian civilians are not harmed in this incursion...my hopes are dim, however.

The chances for peace are also fading rapidly. How many more will have to die? It pains me to think that the United States may be creating another seemingly intractable conflict by its actions in Iraq. The sheer ignorance and incompetence of the Bush administration with regard to Iraq is simply staggering...and appalling in its consequences. Tens of thousands of people have paid with their lives because the administration did not want to bother with such silly things as "facts" and "knowledge" and "experience in the region." They knew nothing about Iraq, but, by golly they were going to bomb the hell out of it and call in Halliburton to build a nice new Mall of America over there...or...well, maybe a Mall of Iraq, too to please the locals. C'mon folks, that's what democracy is all about!

They make me sick...I'm sure I'll have plenty to say about them later, but I don't want this to be solely an anti-Bush blog. There are a ton of those, I'm sure, so I'll try not to let my rage boil over onto the "page" too often. Once I get started, though...

Finally, I'm so psyched for the quarterfinals of the World Cup!!! Germany vs. Argentina should be one of the best games of the tournament, while I think that, if they keep it up like they did against Spain, France may give Brazil a run for their money. England vs, Portugal promises to be a hard fought match and you never know with Ukraine...will they pull off the upset? We shall have to see what Italy has to say about that. Zidane, Henry, Beckham, Rooney, Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Klose, Podolski, Messi, Totti, Shevchenko...this is what the World Cup is all about!!!

Inaugural Address?

Hear ye, hear ye. This blog is now in session. Blah, blah, blah...some more nonsense...*shuffling noises*...facts and figures...*sounds of stultifying boredom*...pompous promises...obscenities...wait, what? Eh, that's enough of that.

So, this will be my attempt at sharing my own personal thoughts (both random and those that have spent countless years in gestation) with the wider web-world. More to come...