I wrote this poem in 2003 in response to the Iraq war. It still applies now, only even more so. Every time we attack the Middle East, it produces more violence. The first Gulf War produced Al Qaeda. Meddling in Afghanistan produced the Taliban. The second Gulf War has produced DAESH.
Only by cutting off their finances, and ceasing to supply them with weapons, can this be stopped.
It seems so easy, when the flame
Blossoms from the end of a gun
To destroy the enemy.
Under the pale blue winter sky,
Distant faces we will never see
Twisted in pain, because we cried
Life calls to life in the turning
Of the year, as naturally
Charred corpses in the dust
Cannot rise up and speak.
Their mouths are stopped.
Birds sing of reconciliation
Bombs are impersonal, smart:
You can’t hear the dying
From so far above.
The frogs are mating in the pond
I have not forgotten the dead
All the dead sing in my blood
The innumerable dead.
But Nature wastes nothing,
Easier to call for revenge, Than to look in a mirror and see The enemy staring back at you.
Yvonne Aburrow, 6.27 p.m., Saturday, 01 March 2003