Friday, August 04, 2006

Kristallnächte Ramallah


Ouside the blinded school,
A tank squats like a toad
On a jewelled carpet
Of broken glass,
Its one open eye,
The gun Barrel,
Traverses the cratered streets,
Keen as a scythe
For action.

Foetal,
At his father’s side,
A boys whimpers incomprehension,
As bullets bite at walls about.
One rips into his gut,
Leaves him twitching
In the suddenly old man’s arms.
Life’s sands spurts out
Of his shattered hour glass.

An ambulance stands idly by,
Parked drunkenly across upended
Paving slabs. The driver sleeps,
His body twisted oddly through the windscreen,
Half across the rust red bonnet.
Moonlight pours through bullet holes
Peppered all around the green crescent.

Hanging in the black sky,
The gunships deliberate,
Pointed rockets straining wait.
A merciless beam of light
Probes the rubble for more life
To obliterate.

This first appeared on Gilad Atzmon's website, just after he released 'Exile'.

1 comment:

  1. Dafydd2:24 AM

    I found this a disturbingly powerful poem, and I liked the way the title underlined the irony of history.

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