A Place Exists

A Poem by Christine

When two towers crumbled along with a nation,
The world became aware that
A place exists
Which, prior to this event,
Were just points of latitude and longitude.

A place exists
Where ideology and theology fuse and combust,
In the most literal sense,
Because our nation’s solution is to provide more explosions.

But assumably, Our’s is the righteous cause,
Just like they believed Their’s to be.

A place exists
Where the Our’s and Their’s won’t align
Because the enemy has been
Singled out, vilified, and diminished to ash.

A place exists
Where revenge shows itself in a ghastly form.
The suicidality of it all is haunting…
But if I could reverse time
And interview these men before they detonated bombs
And ask why they were driven to such a fate,
I wonder if their response would sound like that of a terrorist
Or someone more like me…

And if I were to report
From the enemies’ perspective,
Wouldn’t this be journalistic suicide?
An unpatriotic affront on national security?
Another American reporter waiting to be stoned?

A place exists
Where I could fulfill my assignment
With the weight of cameras and equipment strapped to my back,
Not to mention, and equal in weight,
The thoughts I carry concerning what humanity should look like.

And even if I took the time
To objectively decide
Who would want to confide?

A place exists
Where a culture rich in aesthetics
Has been reduced to rubble
Along with any semblance of integrity.

We don’t fight wars on home soil.

A place exists
That I wouldn’t be able to reach
Because the military won’t have me there
For fear that I would oust their oper(nation)…

Because America can’t be wrong.

A place exists
Where no one understands the word
Opport(unity)
Which has not so much to do with a difference in culture
But a difference in what it means to feel
United.

Maybe that’s what we’re missing too.

A place exists
In the minds of a people
Estranged from justice,
Reduced to dodging road side bombs
And military forces alike.

Perhaps worst of all,
A place exists
That I can’t find
Because I don’t know what it means
To live the way they do
Never knowing anything else
Except anger and fear.

So if I were to find this place
I’d have to look the part
Which wouldn’t pose a challenge
In a society where women show only their eyes.

But even if I was covered head to toe,
My eyes would never capture the same stare
And they would see through my guise
Wondering why I look different.

© 2011 Christine

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GTVile

You make some good points. I have been to Afghanistan. I worked with 60-70 local nationals (who were helping us with the sustainment of the American war machine). I learned a significant amount of Pashto while I was there. Their language is so foreign to those of us that speak a Germanic tongue with hints of romantic influence. Their flavor of Persian is so much prettier than the Iranian master dialect, but so much harder to capture correctly. The people in our region were quite happy to have Americans there (we frequently had chai tea together and ate goat mixed with ladyfinger stew and talked about things very openly) because they didn't consider the Taliban human. Literally, they thought they were an animal infestation. But what really struck me was how alike we all were. Manners were relatively the same, minus not showing the bottoms of your feet and not using your left hand. It was kind of sad to see how prematurely the people there age. I had 11 y.o. children begging for cigarettes instead of food. In Iraq they come up and want MREs. But in seeing how alike we all were, it was heart-breaking that I'd never see my newfound friends again once I left, and that just because we named the same God different names, our beligerent peers would never let us really spend time together for longer than a year. Their land is arguably one of the most hostile on earth climate-wise, but its so beautiful that apart from the disruption of man's folly, it would be a lovely place to live. I saw the Milky Way for the first time while I was there, and I saw black crested mountains that had earth literally scorched from the sun. You can see extinct pockets of civilization there that go back millenia. I wish that the pictures I took would do it justice, but they simply don't. Anyway, I like this piece because it raises awareness of one of the very things that we simply aren't aware of in America. Moreover, it shows that because of silly ties to geographical location, we shoot at each other for our mutual love of the same things. Good job.