Bashar In Trauma

Trauma N:1

Rockets fall
Inside my square
When mind in random shift
Dispatched on the air verbal tweets like seizure storms
and I have
No umbrella nor leaf to hide under as a frog
No tube nor old jar in the back yard
Could let me,a lion sojourn.
The end is nigh
I can smell it from miles away.

Trauma N:2

Icy wind
is blowing through a chink
in the window frame
I am starting to shiver
As Rouhani have sought to woo the west.

Trauma N:3

They say
Determination twinkles silently in my eyes
Truth slips past my lips so effortlessly
Laughter of a victorious war leader perpetually dimples my cheeks

~

They do not notice
That I am vulnerable,
In trauma wallowing,
Gasping for breath,
For life hanging from a straw
My hands frozen
Now glimmering
around a bonfire in a foreign soil
seeking warmth

Trauma N:4

Time
to stop
blowing my horn
and feeding me lies
I am a lion made of paper

Trauma N:5

I am hulled flat
Light
Worthless
On a gust of wind
I will be soon flown away as chaff.

Trauma N:6

For a long time
I ve been stuck
Blindfolded
In a crypt
Freezing flutter of color in butterflies wings
Burning nests
Sipping wine over the ashes.

~

Now the matrix reversed
I am on the open
Hanging
Dangling
Swinging in the wind
At any time a cannon ball
will hit and tear me down.

Trauma N:7

All throughout the morning coffee I taste fears at the back of my throat; it taste like bitter memories of Anna Franklin`s and broken childhood oaths.
All throughout the night I see ghosts permeating the streets,walls and ceilings across the open fields and hills seeking revenge and democracy.