—Poetry by Dr. Anissa Sboui, Sousse, Tunisia
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy
of Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
OF REBIRTH AND MOTHER EARTH
Like an oak he stands
Ploughing the soil
Even with wounded hands
He endured the toil
Leaving furrows
Watering the Earth
With blood
Plowing acres of trees
Deeper and deeper
Engrossed he is
With no turmoil
Suddenly drops of rain he does sense
What can he do but dance
Let’s dance alone, let’s dance
Dancing in the rain
Alleviates the pain
Where are my Shawnees?
Oh Maneto! I am resurrected
The Earth is fertile
Begetting no discrimination
Here bees, birds, pawpaws
Do celebrate with me
We are singing “Oh Mother Earth, emblem of
Rebirth”
The invader Columbus has to flee
White rapist is running away
White racist is decamping in the night
Here we belong
Here more than one seed to sow
Grow plants grow
You, white racist!
Be ashamed of your atrocities
You encroached on our rights
You are the disposessed
Here we are singing
“Oh Mother Earth, emblem of Rebirth”
What can he do but dance
Let’s dance alone, let’s dance
Dancing in the rain
Alleviates the pain
Where are my Shawnees?
Oh Maneto! I am resurrected
The Earth is fertile
Begetting no discrimination
Here bees, birds, pawpaws
Do celebrate with me
We are singing “Oh Mother Earth, emblem of
Rebirth”
The invader Columbus has to flee
White rapist is running away
White racist is decamping in the night
Here we belong
Here more than one seed to sow
Grow plants grow
You, white racist!
Be ashamed of your atrocities
You encroached on our rights
You are the disposessed
Here we are singing
“Oh Mother Earth, emblem of Rebirth”
TO BREATHE OR NOT TO BREATHE
To breathe or not to breathe
That's the answer
When the sun layers
Infringe my slumber,
Allah, I turn to,
With solemn heart,
Secular brain thoughts,
Apolitical chamber
His grace, I do remember
Eyes open,
Hands stretched,
Legs straightened, not like cucumber
To breathe or not to breathe
That's the answer
When the sun layers
Tickle my makeup-free face
In the heart of windy September
I crawl into the silky bed
Made of tender timber
Touch the bone of my North African race
Jolt forward
At the view of the chaste sky,
Neat breeze,
Potent scent of amber
Amidst a crazy,
Deadly world
My lingering trauma,
My transient insomnia,
Not yet fixed by that psychiatric plumber,
To the question of possible trace
Of surpassing doomed December,
To breathe or not to breathe
That's the answer...
To breathe or not to breathe
That's the answer
When the sun layers
Infringe my slumber,
Allah, I turn to,
With solemn heart,
Secular brain thoughts,
Apolitical chamber
His grace, I do remember
Eyes open,
Hands stretched,
Legs straightened, not like cucumber
To breathe or not to breathe
That's the answer
When the sun layers
Tickle my makeup-free face
In the heart of windy September
I crawl into the silky bed
Made of tender timber
Touch the bone of my North African race
Jolt forward
At the view of the chaste sky,
Neat breeze,
Potent scent of amber
Amidst a crazy,
Deadly world
My lingering trauma,
My transient insomnia,
Not yet fixed by that psychiatric plumber,
To the question of possible trace
Of surpassing doomed December,
To breathe or not to breathe
That's the answer...
PREGNANT WITH PAPER
They always tell her
To give birth to a child,
They always urge her
To bear a child,
Release it back into the wild,
And tame the spouse’s wobbling
Over the secret guild.
One question arises:
“Is it her body?
It is yes,
yes,
yes.”
The body has a paper
A pen is there
With blue ink to conquer the virgin womb
To carry the pale mail parcel
By the belly bomb
Pregnant she is with paper
Scrambled letters she arranges,
Wavy lines she straightens
With word comb
Needs not a male infant in her life
Needs not to instill feminine norms
Then Man imposes His
Pretending His primacy over the bees
Until that woman is riven with strife.
Wants not months to await the delivery day
Her words know no boundaries, no fixed bay
They are flowing around the globe
Wherever she goes,
Forever Pregnant
As begetting lies in the writer’s penned probe.
THE DROWNING YOUTH
Before sunrise, the little Maha
Woke up, fully zestful
As usual, there was nothing to taste
No slice of tabouna
The gritty dough
Kneaded by paste
Nothing to eat
Not even a seat
Not able, her face, to clean
As she’s daily seen
Not able, the hands, to wipe
No force to fetch water
Her mom used to
Fix that crooked pipe
She eventually found
The villagers’ rumors running around.
The innocent gossip
Spread there:
“The pipe was blocked
And the water cannot drain…”
What a dovish rumor
Just not like theirs!
She pulled her feet,
Her world of words, to meet
The little escapist
Rushed, with a devastating dream
With a floody grin
The well-trodden road to life
Was as white as the cream
She never tasted as a teen,
How come she’d endured
Though she was twelve, not nineteen.
The avid dreamer was
Singing the National hymn,
She endeavored to be an MP
Poverty
She aspired to beat
Now she needed that seat
To beat and beat
With these muddy feet
Her heart was wet,
She could bet
It was the unwelcome guest…
The song flowed over and over
Her soft voice sank,
Stopping the wheel of time
Of Souk El Arba
Whose mayor
Mr. Harba
Catnapped in a hammock
Swiping the little girl’s pipe dream…
*A Tunisian student, Maha Gadhgadhi, was swept away by a flood on November 12, 2019, at Ouled Mofda in Fernana, Jendouba.
Before sunrise, the little Maha
Woke up, fully zestful
As usual, there was nothing to taste
No slice of tabouna
The gritty dough
Kneaded by paste
Nothing to eat
Not even a seat
Not able, her face, to clean
As she’s daily seen
Not able, the hands, to wipe
No force to fetch water
Her mom used to
Fix that crooked pipe
She eventually found
The villagers’ rumors running around.
The innocent gossip
Spread there:
“The pipe was blocked
And the water cannot drain…”
What a dovish rumor
Just not like theirs!
She pulled her feet,
Her world of words, to meet
The little escapist
Rushed, with a devastating dream
With a floody grin
The well-trodden road to life
Was as white as the cream
She never tasted as a teen,
How come she’d endured
Though she was twelve, not nineteen.
The avid dreamer was
Singing the National hymn,
She endeavored to be an MP
Poverty
She aspired to beat
Now she needed that seat
To beat and beat
With these muddy feet
Her heart was wet,
She could bet
It was the unwelcome guest…
The song flowed over and over
Her soft voice sank,
Stopping the wheel of time
Of Souk El Arba
Whose mayor
Mr. Harba
Catnapped in a hammock
Swiping the little girl’s pipe dream…
*A Tunisian student, Maha Gadhgadhi, was swept away by a flood on November 12, 2019, at Ouled Mofda in Fernana, Jendouba.
SLAVERY
This is how slavery began
The day dealers sold her
On board The Phillis she rested
Shackled for months
In stone forts
To be transported
To what they called
The New Land…
Along the journey, she was puzzled,
On her own
No kin, no brighter skin
But bitterness of being thrown
In a mysterious world
Full of enigmas and cryptic clues
But agony of being thrown
In the arms of the unknown
With a broken shin
Pale with fear
What a dreadful atmosphere!
Heart thumping, fingers shivering
Head nodding
Look! Darkness marries loss
Once the Atlantic Masters did cross
With smothered voice
Jesus! Hear me, I beg thou
Release this flock of sheep
Squeezed we are thus
Awaken us from sleep
Zipporah, free us
So must Jethro
Where to go?
Imprisoned, enslaved mercilessly
I have been squeamish
About history of servitude
Utter subjugation, forced labor
Due time to abolish
We are Christians too
Brothers, siblings and even neighbor…
This is how slavery began
The day dealers sold her
On board The Phillis she rested
Shackled for months
In stone forts
To be transported
To what they called
The New Land…
Along the journey, she was puzzled,
On her own
No kin, no brighter skin
But bitterness of being thrown
In a mysterious world
Full of enigmas and cryptic clues
But agony of being thrown
In the arms of the unknown
With a broken shin
Pale with fear
What a dreadful atmosphere!
Heart thumping, fingers shivering
Head nodding
Look! Darkness marries loss
Once the Atlantic Masters did cross
With smothered voice
Jesus! Hear me, I beg thou
Release this flock of sheep
Squeezed we are thus
Awaken us from sleep
Zipporah, free us
So must Jethro
Where to go?
Imprisoned, enslaved mercilessly
I have been squeamish
About history of servitude
Utter subjugation, forced labor
Due time to abolish
We are Christians too
Brothers, siblings and even neighbor…
ARAB LIVES MATTER
What puzzles me today
At the age of the pandemic
Is the spread of dangerous minds
And contagious policies
Infected
Defected
Not well perfected,
Step back the West’s frame
To mourn the Arab lands
To champion the kibbutzim
Behind the crooked scene,
Confirmed cases, subjected to
Celebrate ready meals,
Impulsive plans of crazy clans
With tons of champagne cups
Sweeping across the deal crafty
Arabs have crossed the globe,
But,
Like a dear vulnerable deer,
Surrounded by famished
Destitute,
Cruel,
Wild Wolves,
Can’t wage
War on
Acres of
Areas…
The tale is told
The secrets unfold
Of bronze, not gold
Forever within the Normalization Deal mold
Disqualified Libyanon, Palesyem*
An amalgamated bouquet of treason
Has announced how our territories
Are being cheaply sold.
*I joined the names of fie politically unstable Arab countries: Libya, Lebanon, Palestine, Syria and Yemen.
_____________________
What puzzles me today
At the age of the pandemic
Is the spread of dangerous minds
And contagious policies
Infected
Defected
Not well perfected,
Step back the West’s frame
To mourn the Arab lands
To champion the kibbutzim
Behind the crooked scene,
Confirmed cases, subjected to
Celebrate ready meals,
Impulsive plans of crazy clans
With tons of champagne cups
Sweeping across the deal crafty
Arabs have crossed the globe,
But,
Like a dear vulnerable deer,
Surrounded by famished
Destitute,
Cruel,
Wild Wolves,
Can’t wage
War on
Acres of
Areas…
The tale is told
The secrets unfold
Of bronze, not gold
Forever within the Normalization Deal mold
Disqualified Libyanon, Palesyem*
An amalgamated bouquet of treason
Has announced how our territories
Are being cheaply sold.
*I joined the names of fie politically unstable Arab countries: Libya, Lebanon, Palestine, Syria and Yemen.
_____________________
Today's LittleNip:
I love writing. I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions.
—James Michener
_____________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Dr. Anissa Sboui, all the way from Tunisia, for today’s poetry, and to Joe Nolan for finding us lovely flowers along the way.
"Oh Mother Earth, emblem of Rebirth”
For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
two green moons
walk the fence top—
bright eyes of a tabby
