Soul's nap
By Aisha Razem
Dedicated to Gaza children
4/3/2008
My holy blood is of value
Pureness is washing me
My questions in emissions
is filling my hissing chest
Beneath my spirit's candor
I heard the class clapping for my chant
But I heard the doors slapped in rant!!
Behind all fluttering hands
Zero hour came up full of my tears
Which filled the capacity of wands?
When my soul refined world's rows
And ascended!!!
My heart strucked by the gentlemen's epileptic
So I have seen them all
Knocked down!!
Creeping on red carpet (bloody soil)
On the floor!!
Trying to count the number of childhood victims
To convince their chessboard role!
I know still my wounds are difficult to cure
And the huge gentlemen are fastidious
But they will not live longer than my pain sigh
And not wider than my cry!
They will all
Fall down under my altitude
Through my spiritual traveling
Towards the Holy Ghost
Calling God to prevent my land
My friends
My Mum
From their fatuous Holocaust!
Created, committed by the mighty gentlemen
Those always host
The terrorizing, swerving minds
By the evil spirits of the most
Strong burners of the beautiful meadows!!
They always jump and rise
They fill the world's calendar by lies
Their aim is to vaporize
And change the earth to burning piles!
All the children who are tweeting
Happily in faithful prostrations!
They hate the mothers dandling infants
While the impudent gentlemen
In leadership of the manufacturing
Demolishing earth weapons
Sitting to brocade the innocents sorrow
Besides their arm's tattoo!!
Scene of dappled strongmen
Within a hard convulsion
Is diving in to painful hell!
They try to climb their skating moraines
Carrying their corpse
And their cowardly remains!1
By their weapon's cranes
But the pure mothers would bring
their garden's shovels spading
the huge criminal's ruins
away from their welfare states!!
***
The world’s mothers
Would hoist white peace shreds
of their bleeding gowns
to coup the grace of their loud screech
when world contend if this is the trilling
of the criminals' death!
and the most tender drizzles
Would touch the mother's prayers
And whisper the noun of one creature's God
The noun to release
All the children's plovers
All the ordains
All prophets to please
The earth
And squeeze children's hands
For lots of kisses and apologies!!
Skies wouldn't conceal
The truth of the heaven's peace!!
criminals will not live longer than my pain sigh
And not wider than my cry!
Happily in faithful prostrations!
we will fly to the seventh Glary ....glory sky!!