Blood

I dreamt, not long ago, of being in Iraq, living with those who want to rescue their land and their natural resources from being stolen by the US army. No amount of words could be enough for their valiance and honour. They told me in that dream that it is not immoral to fight in order to live, and to live one has got to need the resources that Mother Nature has provided for each one of us. Let America and the White World call them whatever they want; each one of them has not only the bravery but also the humanity of more than a hundred white folks put together. I know, for I have lived with them.

This poem is not ultimately for them, not for the Dark Man either, but for the earth. And for earth's victory one day, against those animals in white skin, claiming to be superior humans.


He wrapped the cloth just under his eyes, strapped on his polished belt,
He looked across at his friends and folks, his eyes saying how he felt,
He would be gone for days, or weeks or months; he might even be gone for good,
It was a hard moment for those dear to him, even though they all understood.

He gave me a gentle pat on my shoulder, as if to say "let's go",
Picked up his gun and his satchel bag, leaving back the albums though,
He never looked back at his people again, the goodbye was already said,
He murmured : "The nation is mine, so the duty is mine, to protect her from those who invade".

He said this line each time he went, to a war that could leave him dead,
"The nation is mine, so the duty is mine, to protect her from those who invade,
Come ye white man from some land unknown, let me see you brandish your sword and gun,
We'll keep fighting you, upon our word, till we breathe under this sun".

I have been with the Resistance for a full month now, I have known them in and out,
They are humans like us, they sleep like we do, they read, they laugh and they shout,
They are united as one, upon seeing what's happening, to their nation they so dearly love,
"Invaders", they say, "are a pack of wolves; but the Resistance comes straight from Above".

"The white wolves always found our nation attractive, we know after what he is,
If they tell you how proud they are, remember, it is for theft and loot like this,
Funny me", and he laughed, "I thought plunder and loot should mean shame,
Or is it that they were good folks once, Brother, and then something happened, and thus they became?"

You could see the innocence of the way he spoke, it reflects the innocence he was made of,
Despite the wars, or the trouble at their homes, despite all the goings that got rough,
They were all young men, each one of them, they ought to be in some college or school,
Which could have happened, but was not to be, courtesy - the invading white wolf.

"I agree we are terrorists Brother", he said, "but it's important we maintain this state of fear,
Robbery and loot demands a system of peace, stability is always very dear,
Control and security is why they want a government in Iraq, a safe passage through which the loot will go,
One we cannot allow and is why we create this mess; and trust me, it's something they very well know."

"Why fear a civil war Brother they do? Why this sudden love for those not of their kind?
A civil war will mean we will only kill ourselves, it's only our own blood we shall be leaving behind,
But such a war will mean unrest, will deny the safe passage their goods seek,
And that's their concern but not our lives at all, is why they fear a civil war more than do we."

"I wonder why they make us look like bandits, on their TV's, radios, papers and even in their shops,
If their public knew the good men we are, would it have meant that this plunder would stop?
Why then take the pains to tell those lies, when their public couldn't really care less?
For as long a white man lives, whether he is a ruler or a serf, Mother Earth will remain in mess."

He suddenly stopped the car and got out, ran quickly against a small roadside cliff,
Peeped a little through the edge on the left, with his body held against very stiff,
But as lithe as a cat did he then zipped open his bag, took out something I could not well see,
Three explosions ripped through that still countryside noon, almost deafening me.

"I ripped open their hearts", he said, "those bodies for days shall burn,
They acted as informers for the invading wolves, helping the loot with plenty in return,
So far so good, glad this was easy", I could note that this wasn't always the case,
He started the car and we were back on track, on our way to another meeting place.

I looked at him as he drove the car, with his left hand resting on his hips,
He saw me looking through the corner of his eye, and a little smile broke across his lips,
A month was how long our brotherhood had been, and I admired what I had learnt and knew,
That any man with a heart of honour, would be a part of the Resistance too.