Poetry Blogs (2017, ISIS)

Our peacock-angel faces shine

In this fierce Mesopotamian sun:

We survived the Byzantines: the Greeks.

Assyrian Christians became our friends.

We traded with the Jews of Nineveh and saw

The Ottomans rise and fall.

We are the Êzidî, our first year was 4,750 years before

The crucifixion in Jerusalem.

Some say we have been here forever, like the sun.

We pray to Holy Be...

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(I know which one I think serves the most purpose to supersize people.)

Moving home, at times, is vitally necessary, if it means

saving your life for instance; though physically and psychologically

it's the absolute pits. Living in the very heart of Hell's Ville for the

past 3.5 years has had me in bits; a place as harsh, cold and unforgiving

as Isis-controlled Iraq, with their...

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Isis my Lover
my Sister, my Wife
Of You was I born
for you gave me life
as a shadow of a ghost
I was lost
I was dead
in the dust turned tomb
'til You Isis, my Lover,
my Sister, my Wife
Of you was I born
for you gave me life.

A man cut in half
by a child of the sun
gave birth to a child
of the moon blessed sea
and You, Isis, my Lover
my Sister, my Wife
of You was I born
for You gave me life
and, at the end
of my str...

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