Belgium (In the aftermath)


We are awake
To the slaughter of innocence
Kamikaze orbitals destroying
The bare essence of a bridge – between inhale and exhale
What we know as life
We hear newscasters and reporters
Petrified yet spacing out words
As they broadcast from doom to the gloom
As we start praying with our eyes on screen
Hearts on radar, mind on fear and soul on god
And we listen till the clock
Strikes midnight until the windows close
And we creep under the covers

We sleep not wanting to wake up
To the morning news
As torrents of tape are replayed
When before one gruesome detonation
The world was a better place
When one airport was like a packet of fruity candy
Or a mound of chupa chups, so many flavors and colors
Blending in to where journeys
Begin and end, where refugees with no borders
And naturalized kinfolk
Connect like jigsaw pieces, on lips and shoulders
Even in a steady handshake

And now – in the aftermath
On floors and on hospice beds
Are men, women and children
Fighting both the clock and the sickle
When from the comfy couch in your room
You feel vomit shifting upwards
And one tear too many hinging from the ledge
As you gulp down the coffee and tear a piece of waffle
When your heart knows the agonizing truth
-That some shades and some tints
Just do not mix in the shadow of Babel –
After all loving is like an alien lifeform
And loathe is like a cup of tea
And when they mix – in places like airports
People of all colors and sizes pray
For some long-awaited
Political triage

After all there are
No panaceas for terrorism
Nor some paracetamol for loss
Neither propranolol for hypertensive hate
Just years-worth of Prozac stuffed down
The throat – hoping for the sun to rise
And the bells to toll

When waterfalls will dry up
And there will be no more misty vapor

Just wadis – parched tributaries
Where love used to flow.

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