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Disaster on the horizon
For the people of Iran


May 21, 2006

It begins with words --

The daggers of men

Who bleed their nations

Of hope, kill any


Here is war.

A bag full of hate,

Threats blanketed in the heat --

posturing, angry


Unleashing disaster

On the horizon.

War doesn’t have a face.

At first, it sounds like a bell

Striking midnight.

But it doesn’t go back,

Doesn’t have a bottle.

It is endless, this storm.

You cannot call this back.

This witchery gives nothing.

It’s a tornado that sucks

Up life, and spits out nothing

But ashes, broken minds

I can feel in my bones.

Near as anyone whose face

I see, whose eyes I hold

Tight, fixed on the compass,

I see this: this war coming,

Breaking loose

In these mouths.

They are monsters

Who cannot see

The people who will weep.

They are creators

Of a destruction

That begins on the tongue

And ends in the cold

Eyes of tomorrow.

Persis M. Karim edited "Let Me Tell You Where I’ve Been: New Writing by Women of the Iranian Diaspora" (University of Arkansas Press, 2006) . She teaches English literature at San Jose Satate University. Visit

For letters section
To Persis Karim

Persis Karim


Book of the day

The Pursuit of Pleasure
Drugs and Stimulants in Iranian History, 1500-1900
by Rudi Matthee

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