live from radio shariat (1&2)

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These are a series of poems written in honor of Cal's Sentient City contest. You can read them independently, but they're meant to flow together and have some kind of meaning as a whole.
__

(1)

kabul khanoum, where is your mama?

I cried for you when the bombs came down, &
I cried for you when the sun came up.

when I came out to play, the alley was empty,
with dust where the children used to be.
the women wear scars for shawls and
the men wear veins for sleeves. pipes laid bare,
skin laid bare—a calamity of cells.

when I saw you last there were claw marks in your arms.

there are men in your streets
and widows in your bedrooms--
kabul khanoum, where have you gone?

_

(2)

bismillahir rahmanir raheem
a’udlu minash shaitanir rajeem

I hear shaitan sleeps beneath these streets
and pretty girls are what he eats.
I hear he likes the virgins best--
to take the soul and leave the rest.

(bones—
he’s picked them clean. what’s left
is a rotted cage for miscellany;
for the parts no one was supposed to have anyway.

veins—
he’s sucked them dry. if there was ever
a drop of water on desert sand, so there
would be a drop of life in your brittle arteries.)

Daughters, daughters, listen in—
for shaitan knows all kinds of sin.
and if he sees your lovely face,
it’s your pride he’ll soon erase.

sister, did he take your voice from you?
or is this silence your beauty anew?


__

* khanoum: a Persian diminutive; like a Japanese "chan".
* "bismillahir...": "in the name of God, the benevolent, the Merciful, protect us from Satan."

Note: Radio Shariat is the government radio station of the Taliban. During the Talib occupation, it was the only radio station in all of Afghanistan.
Last edited by Sam on Tue Oct 21, 2008 8:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Graffiti is the most passionate form of literature there is.

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Hey there,

First things first. You sure are onto something with that poem!! I mean that was insane !! (in the good sense of the word :P ).

On a more SERIOUS note; you feel the pain the people of Afghanistan have gone through. And i do too. So we both are on a common ground here and therefore an important aspect in light of which i shall critique your work.

(1)

you start with a call to your imaginary acquaintance/friend ( i couldn't decide), 'Kabul'.
This in itself gives a hint to what is to follow in the poem.
You use a lot of graphic imagery that may not be to the liking of some, but i felt that it placed the events in Afghanistan in a more important light.
And then you write of your friend
when I saw you last there were claw marks in your arms.

the monstrosity of the Taliban i guess has its effects on as much the rest of the world as it has on Afghans and the Americans.
And then you dish out some more graphic images (though through allegories) with regard to conduct of the Taliban.

(2)

bismillahir rahmanir raheem

a’udlu minash shaitanir rajeem


Before i continue further i request you to pm me if its Urdu or Pushtu. OK.

You say that 'shaitan' or the devil as you cal the Taliban (the word 'shaitan' has found its way into the hindi lexicon; hindi by the way is a main language of India), hides in the form of shadows which i gather refer to subjective interpretations of holy scriptures and doctrines.

You further go fully hyper graphic now, blood sucking, flesh feasting, raping and molestation and some more. You are really disgusted with all that has happened in Afghanistan, aren't you?
The use of shaitan is another innovative device you use to signify the true depth of their crimes with reference to the native language , maybe ?

Also i really enjoyed the moving rhythm of the narrative.
Do please continue writing. Its an earnest appeal.

the_vizier

P.S. : I wish you would put a pg13 rating on it as not every kid reading it would be able to understand it. But this is just a suggestion.
What we are, we are not.
What we are not, we are.




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Wow, that was good. As in, scarily good. I don't really have much to say in the way of a critique except that I love the way you reprised the same images in a different way. Very powerful.

Good luck in the contest!

~bubbles
Got a poem or short story you want me to critique?

There is only one success: to be able to spend your life in your own way, and not to give others absurd maddening claims upon it. (C D Morley)




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