Christmas in Baghdad

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Is this the place where garland grows,

Among the olive branches low?

Splattered, cindered, clay abode,

Am I so alien?

Encircled those, in khaki drab;

Paying homage to the bags;

Which hold remains of brave, young lads;

Will I feel again?

 

Surrounded, chains of un-lit lights,

Which only shine in day, not nights;

Illumination betrays the plights,

Should we become aglow.

A tree of polypropylene,

Adorns the tower, so serene;

A branch of steel hid in-between,

That only gunner knows.

 

The air of diesel, not of Myrrh,

As pre-fab dwellings start to stir,

Indifferent as they observe,

Fading of the Star.

A failed attempt at lone ‘SandMan’

Adorned with boots, bayonet in hand,

Iraqi winds displace his stand,

Re-formed in Kandahar.

 

T’was yesterday, on Christmas Eve;

A day ahead of promised leave,

When Paul, Eric, Mark and Steve,

Took leisurely patrol.

In Tikrit, where he was born,

Some sixty years before this ‘Storm’,

They’d set-out on this early morn.

Assessing evening’s toll.

 

Among the buildings, scattered ruins;

Charred men--shadows, on the dunes;

From temples soar cremated plumes;

One hour had gone by.

In the distance, beyond the spire,

Come ‘reports’ of skirmish fire,

Incessant screaming of the dire;

Then screams dissolve to cries.

 

Approach, inside a city square,

Where once a fountain teemed, right there,

Smoldering flesh, low burning hair;

A family splayed together.

Rank and putrid pieces strewn,

Mother’s face, shrapnel-hewn;

Attending Allah far too soon--

All their hands were tethered.

 

Domestic dogs, now on their own,

Fight for human flesh and bone;

Such holy image sets the tone,

As chorus strikes ‘Jihad’.

Eric stumbles, exploded knee,

Bearing witness to comrades, three,

Souls reclaimed near instantly;

Christmas in Baghdad.

 

Is this the place where garland grows;

Among the olive branches low?

How I miss New England snow,

This Christmas in Baghdad.

Author's Note

Copyright 2010, Fegger

Reviews

[Tariq]

amazing poem that captures the essence of a beautiful city

[Rikkevi Rue]

rending compelling write. The harsh stark reality of what is really happening...and oh so poetically offered. Particularly the counterpoint between the Holy historical underpinnings contrast brutally with the atrocities of war and the unbelievable degradation of man's inhumanity to man.

[Bridget Mcmaken]

Sad but very well written. this is a very amazing poem.

[Tina Kline]

This paints a very sad but very real picture of what so many are going through. I can't even imagine what it must be like but you painted a very powerful and emotional picture with your words. Outstanding write.

[Eileen]

My friend's brother's is curently in the military. He's in afghan though. Very emotional. Nearly cried. Great write.

[Stammers]

Surrounded, chains of un-lit lights,
Which only shine in day, not nights;
Illumination betrays the plights,
Should we become aglow.
A tree of polypropylene,
Adorns the tower, so serene;
A branch of steel hid in-between,
That only gunner knows.

My favourite stanza. This is far too good to be posted online, be careful as you might not be able to publish it elsewhere.

[AlieahRose]

I LIKE HOW THE...
FIRST AND LAST STANZAS...
HAD THESE QUESTIONS...
THAT SEEMED NOT TO BE QUESTIONS....
THE DETAIL ALONE WAS GREAT...
THIS PIECE SPOKE TO ME...
I COULD FEEL THE PAIN...
CHRISTMAS...
KIND OF IS NOT...
WHAT IT IS CRACKED UP TO BE...
I ENJOYED THIS PIECE...

[Eliza Valentine]

Very strong emotive wording, well written imagery. A very poignant and relevant piece with this being the holiday season, Christmas rapidly approaching and unfortunately the war is still going on.

Fantastic work!

[HopelesslyDevoted]

i agree this is very powerful, i love the way that you totally made the reader picture in their mind exactly what you wanted them to see. fantastic poem!

[Geralyn Miller]

Powerful images of a place that was once beautiful, even though it has not been truly peaceful for many years. This is sorrowfilled enough to make the angels weep.