Disaster on the horizon
For the people of Iran
May 21, 2006
iranian.com
It begins with words --
The daggers of men
Who bleed their nations
Of hope, kill any
Promise.
Here is war.
A bag full of hate,
Threats blanketed in the heat --
posturing, angry
Man-Rhetoric
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.
About
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 Persiskarim.com
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