Human Tragedy and Other Poems

By Amirah Al Wassif

Human Tragedy

The holes that carved upon my forehead;
Reveal how old am I
My children had eaten their self
From a very young age.
I'm the mother
Who peels the hours?
With the patience's knife.
Watching their severed heads
Sparkling from upstairs
Like stars.
I am the mother, I shout
Trying to call them by the name
My children are so many
Some on the trees
Some behind the clouds
Some riding horses in the sky
Some washing their bodies
In my veins.
Some rubbing their noses
In the heart of your fresh towels.
Although, they have died
For long centuries
There are no signs of
Their death.
No gravestones for them
I'm the only one
Who grieves over them?
I'm here standing in pride
Don't come for finding me.
I'm the mother, I shout
The darkness cutting my throat.
I'm the detailed tale
My children aren't your bruises
They are the rhythm of
Your breath
Although, they all died
This isn't the end of the world.
We must have fun
Sometimes you have to turn
Your lights off
For the sake of
Bathing in the moonlight

Diaries from Jail

Between my teeth, there is a gap 
That kind could disturb a whole content.
My history began the very moment I escaped away from the herd.
When the leaves of our trees turned from green to red.
When our leader's head became our new sun.
The children circled around me, pushing me violently with such a great force.
They have believed the rumors which said I belong to the dangerous genre who dares to dream.
I have been trapped by the religious gang.
I screamed at my people's faces.
They planned to tuck me in the obedience pocket.
I had no one on my side so I cupped my hands and knelt down to ask their mercy.
Stop dreaming! They cried out 
I yelled in a miserable Tone, my heart sank in fear
They built an ironic box for me but I lived like a bird that sees itself in a larger place although its body is still caged

The Rules of Blind Obedience

My people hate feeding
The black cats
They say these animals
Are signs of evil
They also refuse
Using salt
They believe
It is a reflection of sadness.
They also treat me
Like a great sin
They imprisoned me in a box
With an opening
For teasing me
From time to time.
I see the light
But couldn't catch it
Next to me a dead fish
Although I am starving
I can't touch it
The fish is powerless
Just like me.
The darkness presses
Against my tongue
My limbs are numb
My wings were lost in a dream.
I am waving to someone
In the mirror
Someone looks like me
In a strange way.

How the War Tamed Me?

I've been raised by a ghost,
Who used to spin 
Around the tombstones
Twice each war.
I am the daughter of
Dust and blood
My eyes swept
The wide streets 
Seeking for the light.
We sleep wide-eyed 
Covering with the darkness
Shivering from the cold.
The ice between my shoulders
Never melting.
I'm calling my family members
Through my dreams
I see my mother
Walks on her knees
Towards the heaven
In my dreams
She has wings
Like a butterfly.
I've been raised by a nightmare
Which pushed me away
To nowhere
I was surrounded by
The bodies of dead
Holding a ticking bomb
Wondering why am I here
Waiting for going back
To my mother's womb.

Amirah Al Wassif is a published poet. Her poetry collection For Those Who Don’t Know Chocolate was published in February 2019 by Poetic Justice Books & Arts. Her illustrated children book The Cocoa Boy and Other Stories was published in February 2020.

Her poems have appeared in several prints and online publications including South Florida Poetry, Birmingham Arts Journal, Hawaii Review, The Meniscus, The Chiron Review, The Hunger, Writers Resist, Right Now, and several publications.