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Poetry by Sheema Kalbasi 

Sheema is the Director of Dialogue of Nations Through Poetry in Translation and Co-Director of the Other Voices International Project.  

She is also the poetry editor of MAG (Muse Apprentice Guild).




© 2004 Sheema Kalbasi




And on the eighth day
God created his bloody sore,
the Middle East

where only the streets
speak of the dead,
where the buttercups
cups, cups are red
from blood,
where bodies are tossed
in oil, oil,
hot hot oil.

Don't burn your finger God
on the ziz,
red, red ziz.


Kaddish: Jewish Prayer for the dead
Ziz: a flower, a cleft or pass, probably that near En-gedi, which leads up
from the Dead Sea in the direction of Tekoa; now TellHasasah.
Allah-o-Akbar: Arabic for "God is Great"






I don't have time these days

all I have are half-times

a half-time mother
a half-time wife
a half-time daughter
a half-time lover
a half-time poet
a half-time cook

don't ask me if this is a poem

We have time enough
to sit and discuss BS
in the name of critique.

...after all

isn't poetry an absolute truth?



All work is copyrighted property of Sheema Kalbasi.



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