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Showing posts from December, 2010

Goodbye 2010

I am looking forward to a new year and have prepared a few rituals to close the door on 2010. All this is very symbolic, but a necessary rite of passage... I have no resolutions to mention, I believe in transformation, not resolutions...I believe in metamorphosis not lists of - I must, I should...This, on a purely personal level. Insofar as Iraq is concerned, I am not optimistic. The American/Iranian destruction has been too deeply structurally ravaging - generations of Iraqis will be paying the price of your evilness for decades to come. I might be closing the door on 2010, but one thing I will never let go of, is my deep contempt and loathing for the United States of America. I see you as midgets, the midgets of history and no amount of new year resolutions will change that, not in 2011, not in 2020....and no amount of rituals, magic or prayers will lift that cruel but sweet and well deserved karma you will be collectively facing. Of that am sure. The Dead, the Missing,

The Final Chapter...

I just spent a whole hour giving birth to a poem so called poem a few lines wrenched from my guts with the forceps of a Condi Rice propelled from my womb with phosphorus labor pangs My connection to the outside world died on me I lost my poem my few lines from a final chapter from a long lost forgotten book... My connection died on me like others died on me slumping like pieces of wood in my arms charcoal brown a withered dried leaf in Autumn blue, a Summer sky pastel pale budding flowers in Spring white as a snow flake a full moon in a crispy cold Winter night. My connection died on me this is not the first time me who wanted to write heroic epics made of magical numbers and codes made of lost dwellings and secret rites of an ancient people. I lost my lines the lines of a final chapter from a never ending story... This is my final chapter a few sentences from a poem betting on connections... This is my final chapter from a long love st

Baghdad's Bloody Xmas Leaks...

Merry Christmas? Happy Holidays? Season's Greetings? What Christmas, what Holidays, what Greetings?! Another Christmas has gone by and the American Santa has delivered us nothing but body bags and blood containers... Now that Arab Sunnis have been ethnically cleansed and exiled in thousands, it is the Iraqi Christians turn. For the Festivities, they closed down their Churches, ripped the decoration, packed their suitcases and forced themselves into a permanent exile. Around this time of the year, between the 24 and 31st of December, the corrupt criminal Jingle Bell boys installed by the US Santa are sure to deliver you some goodies... No wonder this time of the year is the most painful one for me. Excruciatingly so. Moreover a friend in Baghdad, I'll call him/her A.sent me the following : I don't know where to start...there is no day that goes by without news of assassinations and killings. The use of the Silencer gun is their preferred method. Just a few days

American Blues...

Truth be told, I tremendously dislike you...at times I vehemently hate you. Iraq apart...aside, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Somalia and the rest aside, I find you petty, stupid, dumb, uncultured and uncivilized... I hate your fucking chewing gum, your lifestyle, your ideals, and your ideas...I happen to believe you have no ideas. To have an idea presupposes you are capable of independent thought...which, alas, is not the case. I also tremendously dislike your left, your anti war politically correct crowd. I find them opportunistic, shallow, parrot like, and anyone can buy them with a buck ($) or two. I don't respect America. Truth be told. I don't respect America or Americans... In my hearts of hearts, despite your technology, your death industry, very potent I must add.. Despite your trying so hard to "alternatively" cultivate yourselves here and there... I find you quite provincial. Not only do I find you provincial...in your mind frame, in your ways o

Iraqi Blues...

A Open Letter to the Iraqis. You must know, it is not you who keeps me going, it is Iraq. It is the collective memory, the collective consciousness that keeps me going...not you. You are a sham of a people. It hurts me to say so publicly but that is the truth. I am not an idiot. I understand people and where they come from...I know the pain and I know the apprehension, the fear, the shut up keep quiet... This is not to minimize the wounds nor to bury the scars this is a plea for a Revolt not even a plea just a statement, an open letter... I am so disappointed in you all of you specially those of you on the outside I am no idiot I know you're still alive I know you're struggling and I know how opportunistic you have become... It shames me I want to hide in shame cover myself in blankets of forgetfulness... This is not what I learned this is not what I saw before before... I am not sure anymore if there's a before if there's an after

Iraq Will Not Go On The Back Burner.

Yeah you read me right, Iraq will not go on the back burner. What the fuck is this ?! I am everywhere...I read, I observe, I hear.. All of you should be repeating IRAQ day in, day out...yes Iraq, a WHOLE country gone because of your silence...a WHOLE nation, a WHOLE people... What the fuck is this ?! Someone slap me, someone pinch me...I can't believe the Silence. I repeat -- a US military armada greater than the size of the one used during World War II invaded this country, a country the size of California and that during the 21st century-- the age of Human rights, the age of the Global Village, the age of Democracy. And you are still silent? During World War 2, the civilian cost was roughly 45%. During Vietnam it was 70% and during the US invasion and occupation of Iraq it is at 90%. And you are still silent ? I can't fucking believe it! What are you trying to tell me here ? Are you trying to tell me that this a fait accompli and I should accept it ? If this is so

Broken Bottle Blues...

Refer to my previous post first. Some wrote to me wanting "clarifications" regarding the video I referred to in my previous "rant". First, I have already translated this video into English and it was published on Uruknet some weeks ago. So here we go again. Video is of Jaysh Al-Mahdi army of Muqtada Al-Sadr (who wants a ban on bottles of alcoholic drinks) torturing by sodomizing a detainee with a broken bottle . In beginning of video which I forced myself to watch over 3 times for the sake of Truth -the torturer says: are you going to talk or do you want the bottle again. -the man pleads with him, more like shrieks like a regressed infant about to rejoin the womb again. - the man gets sodomized again and you can hear his screams - the man dies - the aide says he's dead. - the torturer asks again - is he dead for sure, bring the electrical cables - another voice says throw water on him to wake him up - another man says - no he's dead fo

Drilling Blues...

My life seems to be made out of Blues...postnasal blues, drilling blues, woman's blues, Iraqi blues... Is it the blues or is it an obsession ? Maybe am obsessed...am totally obsessed, possessed more like it...maybe it's the "aura" of the "anti American" "fiery nationalistic cleric" Muqtada Al-Sadr that has taken hold of me. Maybe I can't shake off those Muqtada Blues... It's not that I have anything against fat bastards with rotting teeth...as long as I am not asked to kiss them, or be forced to kiss them...in the context of the Shiastan blues. In present day Iraq, if you can't afford to kiss, you are drilled...okay you were drilled, now you're just playfully poked, jabbed with manual screw drivers or you're just sodomized to death like in this video courtesy of the Jaysh Al-Mahdi now re-baptized as some cultural and charity organization who plays poker politics and vies the Ministries of "Education, Culture, Trade

Post Nasal Blues ...

I get a weird form of Sinusitis...the doc calls it postnasal drip. So when the cold or "kewl" season arrives, I take all my precautions... I'm an obsessive Arab. I wash everything. But I can't wash away those nasal blues... The other day, I overheard that postnasal drip. I was kind of stuck, could not run for the nearest exit, as I usually do, in such unfortunate circumstances. That squeaky, mousy, nasal shit was being drilled in my ears...like some long whine, a never ending whine... I have sensitive ears...I do, really. And these drawn out words were doing me in... I felt the panic rise in me...breath deep woman. In, out...inhale, exhale... This is what happens to me every time I hear an American accent...something in me snaps and flips. I shared that with a friend ...who assured me I was not insane. He told me -- you just have the American postnasal blues and it keeps dripping...

Yeah, Iraq again !

I am really sorry to bother you...I know you have more important things. Health insurance, tax cuts, BP spill and another flotilla to Gaza. Yeah it's Iraq again. And will always be. I will not let this GENOCIDE go by. I will not allow the Holocaust of Freedom and Democracy vanquish me...so it's Iraq again on the agenda. I put it on the agenda, top priority, top of the list. Iraq, a country the size of California, where by the words of a General of the US.army, (Odierno), has witnessed the BIGGEST, LARGEST movement of military equipment -- the US armada --since WORLD WAR II. In other words, since World War II there has not been anything similar...for a country the size of California. World War II ? Do any of you read history at all ? Do you know how many allies there were during World War II ? And during World War II, military technology was not as "advanced". Iraq, the size of California, a "third world" country, broken by over 10 years of sancti

Blow it Away...To a suicide Bomber.

I understand the need to blow up, explode...I see where you, the poor you is coming from...I understand what you've been through, how they managed to capitalize on your pain... Most likely, you're still young, a starter, wanting to do it well...wanting to gain favors, you who have lost it all. See that body laying there in pieces...it's yours. Next to it lies tens of other bodies...dispersed like flowers in a field...a field, a garden, you've always wanted to visit. I went to the butcher this afternoon He's in the habit of selling dead meat He's a kind man...he's doing his best. I went to the vegetable stalls, He's 40 something, has 5 kids, and is God fearing maybe he does cheat a little every now and then but his crime is nothing compared to yours...

Looking Back...

I have to rush out but I really need to write down those impressions before heading for the door... I went through my usual Friday morning ritual; buy the daily paper, and go for a coffee. I always try to find a secluded corner - I hate noise, and am not too friendly with crowds. I found a nice spot by the window. I like being by the window, makes me feel part of the outside world yet this transparent glass acts like some barrier, frontier, border, separation...a necessary distance. Ten minutes later, 2 elderly couples walked in, they must have been in their mid to late 70's. Am not really good at guessing ages - anything beyond 40 is difficult for me to figure out. At first, I felt an annoyance stir up in me, after all I went to great length to find that exact spot and now it's being invaded by two couples. But they looked jovial and happy, the ladies were elegantly dressed and the husbands looked caring. A refreshing breeze from the usual stale energy and the deep frown

Iraqi Wajd...

Wajd in Arabic can mean trance, ecstasy, passion, rapture... Halet Wajd means a state of trance, ecstasy, passion, rapture. Iraq despite and in spite of it all -- still inspires me with all the above. Youtube : Nasser Shamaa, Iraqi Artist, composer and Oud virtuoso. uploaded by saeed885