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?
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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
