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"Aleppo...Mon Amour"

In the old quarter of Aleppo

A flickering festoon of broken bulbs

And blasted bunting surrounds the souk

Within the cables' crackling sparking

A whispering can be heard,

“Shahid…Shahid…Shahid… Shahid.”

 

In the third cut of the night

The silence of darkness

Is rent by a mother’s cry

As she tenderly wipes dust from the faces

Of her husband, father, new born child

Found in the rubble of the kitchen

Of the house where they once lived.

 

“Shahid…Shahid…Shahid”

 

A husband finds his wife

Clutching her son to her breast in death,

Tight against white phosphorous rain

The gnawing burning

Too quick, too hot to flee.

 

“Shahid…Shahid.”

 

A barrel bomb crater in Tilel Street

filled by a ruptured water main

Becomes a lido where

Child survivors of last night’s raids

Splash themselves cool

Against the heat of the heat.

 

Some shoot marbles

At spent bullet skittles

 

Songs of praise and supplication

Ascend to paradise

Against the incoming mortar storm

Smashing marble pavements

Mosques, basilicas, hamams

To common dust.

 

One child speaks her dream of freedom

She does not know what freedom means

She expects it to be something beautiful.

 

This one wants her father back

She waves her arm

“He has gone away”

She longs to hug him

He has died.

Her face twitches with grief

She has forgotten how to cry.

 

A man picks oranges from a courtyard tree

A child's dress flutters on a branch

Where doves once perched

He fills his bag and carefully treads

Through the shards

Stepping around the blood

Redding a toddler’s first shoe.

 

A dog gnaws at a bone

 

Michel Abdou Youssef,

Tends to the needs of the senile

In the Mar Elias sanctuary for the elderly,

He is the self appointed janitor, nurse.

 

Michel is only fifty three but has seen too much,

Through cigarettes and suffering

He looks much older

 

He never quite made fifty four,

 

"Shahid."

🌷(1)

◄ "Sadie"

"Steppin' Out" ►

Comments

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Rick Gammon

Thu 6th Oct 2016 05:45

Thanks, Colin, I had a mass of notelets and images of Aleppo - enough for maybe half a dozen poems but decided to show the innocents rather than the warriors as such. Why there was even a 4 year old killed after picking up a cluster bomb! A hospital destroyed this week. This is pure evil and we are becoming immune to it all.

I wish I'd have been to Aleppo before this rapine. I've done Jerusalem a couple of times in 70s and 80s and Aleppo (which I admit I'd not heard of before this current conflict) seems more glorious - albeit I probably would not be allowed into Syria with an Israeli stamp on my passport back then.

I wanted to show the indiscriminate nature of the destruction, bath houses being flattened along with churches and mosques - nothing is spared.

I read it yesterday in a pub - it was very effective - however it upset me (and this probably shows how we snowflakes are moral pygmies) and ruined my afternoon, so I left early without my customary hand shaking and cheek kissing ?

I'm doing a bit of a spot at a 'We Shall Overcome' do this evening - I may read this one - I'll have to test the mood first ?

I'll check out the link you sent - I yearn for the world of Swallows and Amazons - maybe we are all headed there.

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