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AMA-AR-GI
Dunya Mikhail Ama-ar-gi: an ancient Sumerian word that means “freedom” and “returning to the mother.” Our clay tablets are cracked scattered, like us, are the Sumerian letters "Freedom" is inscribed this way: Ama-ar-gi This, then, is how the maps grew borders The birds don’t know it yet they leave their droppings wherever they want their songs, like exiles, might pass by anywhere There are no borders to Paradise it contains neither spoils nor victors there are no victors at all Paradise is Ama-ar-gi There are no borders to Hell it contains neither losses nor demons there are no demons at all Hell is Ama-ar-gi Ama-ar-gi might be a moon that follows us home a shadow that stumbles on its true self beads from a bracelet strung or broken together a secret the tree keeps for centuries Maybe it’s what crowds the prisoner’s heart what shines around the pebbles in the embrace of the sun what’s mixed with drops of water among the rocks what seeps out from the dead into our dreams Maybe it’s a flower borne to you or thrown into the air or hanging there alone a flower that will live and die without us Ama-ar-gi that’s how we return to the mother strangers from strangers inhaling-exhaling from inhaling-exhaling Thus, like all of you we breathe Ama-ar-gi and before we shed our first tears we weep Ama-ar-gi Dunya Mikhail is an Iraqi-American poet. |
FREE, FREE, FREE
Mary Kimani Pain can't touch me no more, It can't wound me Can't cripple me, Can't tear me apart as it once did. Pain can't touch me no more. It can't take away my hopes Can't take away my dreams, Can't steal away my future. Pain can't touch me like it once did, Can't touch me deep and cruel Can't be torn or broken Leave me numb and Uncomprehending, Leave me wounded and hurting, Pain can't touch me no more, For I am free, I am free, I am free. I have left behind the bonds with which pain tied me Left behind the memories that held me captive Pain can't hold me no more Can't tell me when to laugh and when to cry Pain can't hold me captive no more, I am free, I am free, I am free. Our city still has its forest of graves Still has spaces left gaping by lost ones Still echo with haunting stillness The loss and sadness still hang heavy in the air, But it can't hold us captive no more, For we have rebuilt our torn places We have nursed our hurt and wounded We have honored the many that are gone. We have learned to live again Re-learned how to laugh, Learned even to love and trust again. Death and pain can't hurt us no more They done their worst but we have remained. We are free, we are free, we are free. For we have prevailed We have overcome, We have lived on. Pain can't touch us no more, not like it once did, We are free, we are free, we are free. Mary Kimani is a Kenyan poet and journalist. |
