Damascus

26.07.07, Dimashq

(to be sung to a commercial tune)
Writing back from the colonies,
Hey!

Why I joined the group
(I wanted to go to Damascus, I wanted to learn Arabic enough to show off to my European friends, I wanted to walk in the footsteps of Paul- wink wink!)
What I saw
(utter chaos, bigotry, lack of sense of history, condescension, utter ignorance)
Why I left
(too hot, waste of time, didn’t want to strangle that woman!)

tropique
triste
tristesse de tropiques
or something along those lines (thank you Muldoon, yet another Paul, another Saul, who took pains to convert me)

time, here, is trimesterly
the day, the night, the early day which is still night, till you can tell a piece of string from the blackness outside
pieces of string that were lowered deep into the night
to save Paul, to save Saul

the barbaric hordes
to what we were:
the followers of the true Belief
those who have done away with stones
and excessive weeping
we were oh so superior
to go into that chamber
and mix with the princesses of darkness

and yet
I could see
under the archway
the landmarks of my own kin
the birthmarks on my own skin
from a time when we were far more closer
to being one

look at those columns rising
right above the bonbon sellers
they were here before us
we were here before us

C-h-o-p-i-n
or a plethora of girls everywhere I go
(but dear Christophine, I did not fight for this liberty
so please don’t worship me
it was a gift from my fathers
and that you fail to understand
to know, Christophine
to know all this and then turn my face away from it
that has been my victory
auf Achse Christophine, auf Achse)

and out there in the dark
with the city’s glimmering lights
as we pass through cafes and cafes
full of men
the only company I wanted to have
was of those failed Roman soldiers who
having accepted defeat
are courteous to the locals
and are tolerated everywhere
for their degenerate and faulty ways.
(and are obviously always auf Achse)

27.07.07

I remember
I remember her boredom
and disappointment as she entered
that little open air cafe
where men were playing the oud and she
was for a moment all-ready to give herself away
to the music
and then
when they made for the Temple and he
proferred her a piece of cloth to put around her head
she remembered who she was
dear Harriet
I remember her words
words I iterated
I remember the Temple
the one the likes of which I sought back at home

But now I shall remember moments other than this
other ouds playing into the night
in the courtyard of times spent, empires spent where
what remains are words like Istanbul, effendi and all the rest
and yet with all our smiles induced by not a drop of alcohol
we were gay
like war-children
playing in and around the rubble of their own home
tip-toeing to the notes of C-h-o-p-i-n

30.07.07, Zabadini

round and round
goes the book in circles and crescents.
around the table are smiling faces dressed in white
and a calmness descends into my heart
as I look on the arid hills
I remember dear old granny,
And a great aunt who has recenlty passed away
She used to tell us stories of this land
in that honeyed cadence of hers
and our hostess
in my great aunt’s white scarf
smiles as we try to read the book aloud
and if she opens her mouth I am convinced
she will ask me how my mother’s doing
how my studies are going
and when I’ll earn enough money
to send her to Hajj one more time.

Two days ago,
in the Roman theatre
sang a footsoldier of the Moors
about the fool moon
and the coming of the awaited one
His name
Speaks a thousand conquests
And Roman defeats....

And I
Climbed the steps
in that age-old way that I had always imagined I’d climb
the pyramids
reserved for those
wearing skirts
Rupert, dear old Rupert
Singing of rabbits and bears.

01.08.07, Zabadani

is this the face
that launched a thousand ships?

Standing by the fruit-juice seller
Eyeing us through the slit she had in her veil
And smiling all the while a knowing smile
She classifies us
as the pure who have come
to learn an ancient art
for which she has no use.
is this the face that launched a thousand ships?

wherein the only expression you will find
is one that asks, one that wants to learn
one that is anxious to be good, to please

is this the face
that resisted defacement
after a thousand assails
after a thousand sails
is this the face
that repelled a thousand ships
to be conquered
by other soldiers
that have never seen the seven-hilled Roman city?

the new conquerers
in their transparent whites
and air of ordering around

how long will they last,
till it is their faces
that draws you and me to these shores, Christophine
till it is their faces
that launch a thousand ships
that will bring havoc
on their palaces and kings.

10.08.07, Zabadini

A History Lesson:

Because evil will find you.

After all these years of hide and seek
And engaging in other petty games
it will seek and find you
in valleys deep in dryness and conflict

She packed up her bags and left
She mounted on a horse and sped out of the city
But no,
Reminds us Faith
Not for ladies of our ilk, such behaviour
Remember how Harriet climbed the Pyramids
with those dainty shoes of hers and her knee-lengthed skirts

not for us those dainty shoes,
not for us those knee-lengthed skirts
for us, the chiding of men sitting on chairs
speaking of all the ills of the world
all the fears of the world

but as we walked through the little shafts of light
in that age old bazaar, a late copy of the one back home
we were merry like two school girls
and let our eyes be dazzled by all the cheap colourful, plastic toys
and further on we made small talk
with men sitting on chairs, behind stalls
(but you see, we were not their daughters to chide)
with the power of speech
our tongues bewitched them all
and we sailed through those little streets
and the courtyards of everyday palaces.

The old man can no longer pack up his bags and go
It is going to be Aisha, believe me Faith
who gets up on that horse and go
like so many centuries ago.