Iraq Monologues

‘Iraq Monologues’ a poem from my  collection ‘Perceptions’, was published as a mini chapbook by Atlantean Publishing, and reviewed by Carillon Magazine.

 Iraq Monologues

 I   G.I.

What the eff am I doing here?
Everybody hates us,
except when we give them things,
then they hate us even more.
I never know who we’re fighting.
Can’t tell a sunni from a shia.
Everyone has AK 47’s,
so you never know
who’s going to zap you.
The Lt is young,
so I listen to the sarge
who always reminds me:
“Shoot if they come at you.”
I want to give gum and candy,
but I’d rather waste a civilian
then go  home in a body bag.
II   Sunni

I didn’t have much
when Saddam ruled
and I don’t have much now,
but I must always pretend
to agree with fellow sunnis,
or they will murder me.
All I have is my olive grove
that everyone taxes;
shia, kurd, al Qaeda,
the government,
even my brethren, the sunnis.
I try to have faith in Allah
and always obey the imam,
but I can only wonder
if things will ever get better.


III. Shia

For so many years
Sadaam suppressed us
and we suffered
for Allah’s sake.
Now he’s gone,
but the sunni dogs
still refuse to bow
to the true belief.
Our militias can’t agree
who is a friend, or enemy.
We kill each other
and blame al-Qaeda,
the American dogs,
or Syria.
We can’t trust Iran,
yet we need her bombs
to kill the infidels
and false believers.
Americans  must leave Iraq,
so we can kill each other
without interference.


IV. Kurd

We have always been oppressed,
Ottomans, Turks, Persians, Arabs,
all have murdered our people.
All have been our enemies,
denying us a homeland,
keeping us divided.
When the Americans
finally caught Sadaam
we hoped they would help us
get a country of our own,
but they betrayed us,
as they have betrayed others
to suit their own interests
and to preserve Iraq.
Now the Turks cross the border,
attacking us with planes and tanks
and no one will defend us,
making us fear
that we will never have
a Kurdistan.
V.  Al Qaeda

The only thing sweeter
than killing Americans
are the cries of their women
lamenting in despair
the loss of their loved ones.
As long as the infidels
pollute the lands of Islam
we will give them gifts of death
from the Caliph in the mountains.
The roadside bombs
from the Iranians
delight us when they explode,
slaying unbelievers
and the dogs who serve them.
I don’t know how long I’ll live,
but Allah will welcome me,
because I serve his will
and kill his enemies.


VI  Mahdi Army

I know we fight
to defeat our enemies,
who are everywhere.
I don’t know what to believe,
though I always praise Allah
as I do my duty
to the militia.
I obey orders,
whatever they are
and kill whoever they say,
whenever they say.
God is great.


VII Bedouin

May they all perish,
Americans, Iraqis,
the kurds, al Qaeda,
all the dogs who defile
the peace of the desert.
As long as they don’t find oil
beneath the spreading sands
the invaders will move on,
as invaders always do,
leaving us once again
the silence of the dunes.


VIII  British Officer

We still support the Yanks,
whether we like it or not.
They’re the only ones
who maintain order
and a whiff of gunpowder
from time to time
keeps our troops sharp.
We still do a good job,
as long as it’s not too big
and we did well in Basra,
until the Mahdi army,
criminal thugs,
al Qaeda,
ran amok,
disrupting the peace.
So we pulled back
and let the Iraqis,
backed by the Yanks,
do the dirty work
we once did ourselves
in better days,
now gone forever.


IX  Sunni Mother

When they came for my son
I begged my husband
not to let them take him.
Instead he beat me,
cursed me for being
a mere woman
who didn’t understand
it was for the glory
of Allah.
Now they’ve come
for my only daughter,
a 12 year old flower
who they want to adorn
with a suicide vest.
I pleaded with my husband
to spare her,
but he beat me, cursed me,
leaving me helpless,
doubting the justice of Allah.


X   Shia Girl

Once again school is closed
and if it reopens
the religious police
will deny entry
to women.
I sit home alone
dreading my future.
My father promised me
to a rich, old man
who paid him
to possess me.
I used to dream
that I’d attend
the university,
become a doctor,
heal my people.
Now hope is shattered
and I’m only left
with hatred for men.

review from Carillon 35


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