2 Poems

I thought I would get back into the Friday routine of posting some of my writings, so for your reading pleasure today you get 2 poems. The first one is kind of dark while the second is more light-hearted.

I wrote the first poem in February 2009. Saddam Hussein’s execution had recently reappeared in the news and it got me thinking about his thoughts. When he was in complete control and had all authority in Iraq, did he ever think about how his life would end? Those thoughts spawned this poem, which I wrote when I arrived at work.

Saddam (written 2/11/09 in Simi Valley, CA)

Did you think it would end this way?

With a black bag pulled over your head. Did you think it would end this way?

With a noose tied around your neck.

When you sat on your golden throne in your palace between the great rivers

When your picture adorned every street corner and business wall

When the statues were erected and the songs of praise were sung

Did you think it would end this way?

Did you think it would end this way?

In a dark, dank cellar.

Did you think it would end this way? Hiding in a hole in the ground.

When you gassed the innocent and massacred the poor

When you threw people in cells for no reason other than your hurt pride

When the torturers whips snapped and pain was inflicted on your command

Did you think it would end this way?

Statues fell, crumbled

Pictures removed, shredded

The soles of the people were on your head

Your demise was rejoiced

Your capture was celebrated

Your death was relief

Did you think it would end this way?

_________________________________________________________

The second poem was written way back in 2002 while I working with the African Children’s Choir. We had a concert in Berkeley, CA and I had a few hours to explore. I walked up and down different streets and saw people who were living life in a wide variety of ways and all of them were accepted. That led to this poem.

In These Streets (written in Berkeley, CA 10-6-02)

Out in the street

Underneath the October sun

With sounds of sirens in our ears

Intrigued by what we see

Long hair     tattered clothes

Dancing in the streets trying to make a living

But not doing a good job

There is life in these streets

Unlike the majority of this land

Beads, strings, books, and clothes

Stop the war!

Free the oppressed!

Vote for peace!

 Even if you don’t agree with them

You smile at them

Because of their enthusiasm and

Passion

For what they believe

Yes, there is life

And heart

In these streets

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