• Cesspool Your Name is War
As they opened the gates of war,
My father’d have to take off his youth
To go in stripped of hope of return,
And mom’d lie in the bed of tears
Covered with her agony.
Only me was there,
Foolishly, watching the silent clock on the wall
As it strikes my disappointments, one by one.
Two wars had later passed, or more,
When father returned but as a flag,
Mother flapped, and both vanished high into the sky.
Since then, our home has turned into a soldier’s boot.
Whenever I try to dust it off,
A burnt memory would fall off a day
That’d been lost in the cesspool of war.
By Faleeha Hassan
Translated By Hussein Nasser Jabr
Faleeha Hassan Pulitzer Prize and Pushcart Prize Nomination. Member of IWA and Whos’ Who in America, Cultural Ambassador Iraq, USA, winner of the Women Excellence award, winner of the Grand Jury Award of the SAHITTO, one of the Excellence selection committees, winner of women arts award. SAHITTO AWARD JUDGING PANEL.