Original Artwork by Mariam Sawires
If I were a kitten
the world would be smitten
but I am a seven year old war-bitten
little honey-eyed girl
Locked up in detention.
Original Artwork by Mariam Sawires
If I were a kitten
the world would be smitten
but I am a seven year old war-bitten
little honey-eyed girl
Locked up in detention.
Original Artwork by Mariam Sawires
Mum had named
Her newborn Moses
To guard against
The nonchalant sea
So he would help
Part the hungry ocean
When God gave His decree
That ‘t was time to flee
But six months ago
The phantom Pharaoh
Sent his birthday arrow
And gifted from a thousand mile
A misguided guided missile
Mum’s shell shocked cornea
Recorded her guardian
Sear
By a shrapnel the size of a Chardonnay
And flap
Feeling for his intoxicated airway
Flap did baby Moses
Blood fountained from his neck like an octopus
Gushing out a dozen roses.
Original Artwork by Mariam Sawires
Such is tyranny, hard and cruel
Morphing gifted men into fools
When the splendid past haunts their dreams,
They smile, douse themselves and set alight the fuel.
Original Artwork by MARIAM SAWIRES
I turn, bidding to see life, and whenever I do
I see pain and poverty, hurt and hunger, labour and liquidation
But instead, I adore but these, infinite sensations
I like to descry a wildflower, gentle
I have never seen a flower give birth
But I have seen mothers separated from their offspring
In Spring
I like to touch the lilies and feel their coarse and supple silk
I have never seen a flower make love
But I have seen lovers hung from ropes, forgotten
In Autumn
I like to taste the rainwater left on the bracts overnight
I have never seen a flower so thirsty, it begs to die
But I have seen children ripped by a sniper’s tender bullet and sinter
In Winter
I like to listen to the soft wedding bell melodies created by the petals as they marry the grass
I have never seen snow bury a flower in cold blood
But I have seen powder detonate and deliberately rob the soul of a lover
From next Summer:
I will turn and accept life is full of these unfair stories.
I wish it weren’t like this.
But I’ve learnt these injustices harden my flower.
