As I’m stirring the froth of my guilt
Now every-time I swipe
Sitting in a plush club chair of some country club
”Did you see how the man hit and push
her?”
I look with my eyes closed
hanging myself with the knots in my stomach
I fight, flight,
as every passerby freezes
we watch you collapse in the blood of your trauma
I’m making kabob and rice for the boys tonight
with a side of guilty comfort
as I swipe the news of your assault
I’m folding the blankets on our beds made
from the wool of the slaughtered Persian lambs
I hear the breaking of tissue when I bite
into strawberries
“Look away!”, they say, in my nightmares
no boundary will protect us from the invaders of this cursed land
When I left, I left you a trail of tears, I migrated with a broken heart and behind me the sting from envy of the other traitors who also wanted to leave with every cost imaginable to us and to you
Don’t look for me, all I have is regret and judgement about your faith
All I have left you is a trail of tears to remind you that you won’t free yourself of the guilt and shame in no fashion of luxury on this side of borders
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Comments5
how I relate, dear poet kin
we Diaspora, survivors
trailblazers of haunting grief:
'When I left, I left you a trail of tears, I migrated with a broken heart'
'we watch you collapse in the blood of your trauma
I’m making kabob and rice for the boys tonight
with a side of guilty comfort'
Your sentiments and comments mean a lot, dear kin and poet.
your authors note both confirmed and reinforced the forming of an already birthed impression .. the guilt you allude to is palpable throughout and makes this work of yours something to be correspondingly very proud of .. Neville
I feel better that this poem spoke to you about an important tragedy of our time…Your visit is always welcome
Stunning. Very powerful. You convey emotion well.
Thank you for your attention and care with your comments, always…
You are very welcome.
Raw, and honest.
You are strong.
Your comment meant a lot-looking forward to visiting your poems.
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