Archive for August 28, 2018

If your head must be cut from your shoulders

Posted in Uncategorized on August 28, 2018 by antonyowen
art beautiful bloom blooming

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

After Israa al-Ghomgham 

 

I recall the solitary scarlet flower I took apart as a child

standing out from a gilded vase of flowers boasting their erect penises.

I recall ripping off its head and a red fragrant spray waxing my fingers.

Standing in the crime scene accused I blamed it on my brother.

 

I vividly remember how a snail left a silver road to where it rested in peace,

it was in my nature to interrupt that calmness and end its life with my shoe.

I recall the gold of its guts and the sound of an insignificant thunder,

that night I felt so bad that I watched them in the rain drag home to burials.

 

As a boy, I remember having no interest in the colours and meanings of flags,

except for one in blue-collars who hoisted me up to the proud godless sky

who told me that I was a spaceman of suburbia in a hand me down cape,

I had these powers once and I saved the world of a thousand lowly snails.

 

Soon in Saudi Arabia, a beautiful country where sun shines its whole face,

there is a woman burying her head in her hands awaiting man’s decision.

Her fate is of the snail, of the scarlet flower that lost its proud head and home.

I remember my mother making me wash the vase and the throwing away of limbs.

 

I remember feeling inhuman

I remember it all my friend,

the stench of petals,

thickening water

life gurgling

in drains.