War & Peace

Peace. . .
had no mother
to wear a veil as dusk descends
to go down the alley
and squat down to watch
the absence of her son
who instead of the ball
jumped on a mine. . .


He had two eyes of marine blue
We too  who were minded to win
could drink of their waters
in the midst of Karbala desert
We who scored so many goals had no pitch to play
nor even boots with which to shoot
not even a ball or a friend
Nevertheless
we could still play by ourselves
in the pitch of a match without a ball
At times when we were high without a pitch
at least we would roam the alleys and bang someone
now what?!
When war tore loose
it had eyes like a wound 
red on the face
and we who were mobilised
put together our all in all 
to get together a plastic ball
to have to run after
Then
one by one we got together in Karbala
and arranged to play six a side
then there was breakfast and the train and the prayer mat and bye bye
When we arrived
we had a canon ball behind each dug out
Between the two goals the game was aerial
whoever ran quickest set foot in the goal fastest
Again we had no pitch but mines underground
as many as you like for our feet to score
instead of the ball

جنگ و صلح

جنگ و صلح