TWO POEM'S #2

by MARSLI N.O

#1
Reading Fallujah

The smell of bullets floats
Darkens the clean air
And rustling of mortars pollutes
the solitary in Fallujah

When the dust and smoke become one
Thousands of animals stomped on the city’s soil

They rush looking for mosques and domes
To be destroyed
Or every bodies with beard and
Covered in robe
Are victims to be skinned
And they cheers
Looking at the blood and corpses

They have been poisoned with nightmares
Of a deceiver
And at a blink of the eyes
Allows their souls smeared with faeces

At a blink of the eyes Fallujah changed
Into a filthy wasteland
And from the well of their eyes and souls there is no water left
To be dropped

While the women and their children
Wail
From the cracks of stone and the city’s ruins

Now Fallujah becomes witness once again
To every lies by human
With ruthless heart and greed in their souls

November 25, 2004


#2
In The Personal State

who grew
the isolated lands
in every personal state
if it’s not for the darkened heart
and the greedy hands
scrapers of the white soul

hey you shadow chasers
and black figures
the forest you sow
is breeding thorns and willows
you spread the fire of dispute
behind the masks

in whose eyes the thorn pierced
and the arrow stuck?

there are millions of sighs and moans
in silence
watching the white personal lands
burn
and the river that twines the hill
now lying dead
in its darkening floor

for whom is this enmity for
and the fence that we build?

where is the greet now thrown
and the friendliness that now bruised?

is it behind the arrogance
or realization sets,
because in personal land we own
isolated land grew
and foul-smelling breeze proposes?

August 5, 1993

TWO POEMS #1

1
Headless

Without their head they walk
Without their head
They treasure all senses

Nose at the hips
Eyes on the chest
Ears on the navel
Mouth at the stomach
And brain on the knee

Without their head they walk
Without their head they talk
Without their head they think

For a region
Called country

February 8, 2007
MARSLI N.O

2
In The House Of Experience

Only the clever will learn
from mistakes
and his anger
is lulled by wisdom

I learnt to accept
with less demands

because after years of being a resident
of your house
I am now a wise man
that easily forgives

and the more I  know
losing is not the end
because thousands of fields lies unfold

July 27, 2003
MARSLI N.O