Somalia Sunrise
Somalia Sunrise belongs to the following groups:
All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical, Short stories - Spherical Scriptings, United States, Up & Coming Writers, War and WMGStanding in the sand thinking…
There is no reason for the sun to rise
here; in the Somalia sky.
There are no birds to sing a morning greeting.
No animals lye slumbering.
No plants dot the landscape.
The sun’s rays do warm the dead.
Increasing the stench of the rotting dead.
The increasing strength of the stench!
Till the stench becomes palatable,
Then a malleable thing!
I form some into balls and store it in my shirt pocket.
Here on the Horn of Africa
Staring at the morning sky.
A great whirling cloud appears.
A cloud moving without wind.
It descends.
Dispersing like rain.
A great cloud of insatiable flies!
Someone is approaching…
One of the walking dead,
With sagging bare black breasts
Carrying a few possesions in a basket
On her head.
A clan of Warlords rules this land of the Dead.
In the midst of an inferno of heat and biting flies,
Here on a Mogadishu street;
I stand guard.
Further down the street,
AK-47 at the ready
Stands another man.
One of theirs.
A well-fed Warlord of the dead.
Between he and I; exists
A gulf of Muslem fervor.
On a war torn street,
In the city of the deceased,
Walks a one armed child.
I entice the child to come closer.
We share food and smiles.
Forgotten are the heat and flies.
A naked child stands mesmerized.
The array of weapons I posses
Are of no interst to my young guest.
The object of fascination appears to be
Strapped to my wrist.
No longer seeming naked and poor
Wearing a smile that would brighten Heaven,
That one arm now wears a watch.
Laughing as he turns and runs
Thru the war torn street.
Momentariy forgotten:
The Warlord of the Deceased
Steps from the shadows
To club him over the head.
Lying in the dusty street kicked and beaten.
The child’s newly acquired treasure is taken,
By the well-fed Warlord.
(perfect sight picture…)
Grinning, the Warlord turns
Toward my position
(perfect sight alignment..)
Admiring the child’s treasure
The last thing he sees.
(hair trigger squeeze…)
Battered and bloody
Stumbling to his feet,
My one armed friend
Retrieves my gift.
In his bloody smile
I glimpse the reason.
Standing in the sand thankful…
For the Somalia sunrise.
kimculbertson
Powerful!
EAWilliams
Wow, captivating…I don’t remember breathing…the last words released a gasp of air flooding out my lungs…
Digby
Great work.
Michael Bermi...
You have a rare gift my friend…
sami al-haj
fucking powerful indeed.
adgray
FARrrrrrrrrk!
breathless
wordless
all that is left is shock
This is the most powerful piece I have read in a very very long time
BRAVO! ☼
thank you
skik
awesome writing
this powerful piece could only be written by a person with a military background
i get the feeling the soldier doesn’t want to be there but he none the less caries out his duties