Monday 19 January 2009

No Paper Tiger...


I am no Communist,
nor a Marxist-Leninist,
I am no Socialist
nor a Baathist,
hardly a Nationalist
not even a Pan-Arabist
most likely than not,
a Trotskyist

I trot, alone
and I love the loneliness
the aloofness
the wilderness...

In the jungle of paper tigers
am no Maoist, either.

Labels, I study them
then rip them off
one by one...

And what a pleasure to rip them off...

Am no poet either,
the ink is dry
and the pages are crackling...
like the crackling wood
in a blazing fire...

You sit and you know
you are there,
here,
everywhere...

This where you belong
somewhere,
hanging in between,
in between the flames,

You have no race
no religion
no nationality,

You are beyond
papers,
paper tigers...

I love the humility
of being a no one,
just a lonely voice
in the cold,

Just You and I
treading along the path
a path,
with no name...

Picture : Lion of Babylon, courtesy of Occupied Iraq.

Sunday 11 January 2009

Love amidst Ruins...



One of the most difficult, defying, challenging things in Survival mode, is to write about Love during times of War...

In the Arab World, every Love bloom is a victory...

How many of you could still love despite several wars, one after another ? How many of you can still love when the list of your buried or imprisoned ones grows longer everyday ? How many of you can still love when you are in exile, desperate and alone ? How many of you can still love when you are surrounded by ruins ? And every time you try to build something, another "bulldozer" arrives and smashes it to the ground. So tell me, how many of you can still love ?

Loving amidst ruins is the biggest challenge one can face, the most defying moment, the most valiant resistance, resistance against nihilism, futility, loss of meaning...Resistance against Death...

Love at times of war is like giving birth to an umbilical cord, that will connect you again to your own humanity, humanness, to Life...

That is why, when a good friend of mine, an Iraqi, who lost EVERYTHING -- family, friends, home, livelihood...from this cursed occupation, wrote to me and tells me that he is in love and full of hope again, I rejoice...

He said that this Love is healing his deep wounds, giving him hope that he has not been abandoned by Destiny, Life, God...

I am rejoicing for him, for us...because that means to me, that despite it all, that grain as small as a mustard seed is still there...it can bloom, blossom and grow...

And when there is Love, there is Hope, there is Purpose, there is Life... even and specially, when it is born amidst Ruins...

Artwork : Iraqi artist, Waleed Al Qaissi.