Perhaps I have become
immune to inclement
weather. After all,
I've lived most of my life
dodging blizzards of bullets,
taking shelter as shrapnel
streets where fear floods gutters
and blood freezes drains over.
I vaguely remember
that hail is a small lump of ice
that stings the skin
when it hits
for long ago, it took on
another meaning for me.
So, when snow falls
on the streets of Damascus
it is eyed with suspicion
this white powder that
spreads so silently...is it
a form of white torture?
You already know how big I am a fan of your poems now. I guess I was the first person to ask you why couldn't I nominate this poem because this poem was so deserving to be on the front page.
We have lot of members here from Syria too. So I don't know it's your personal experience or you tried to portrayed someone else feelings through this poem.
This poem is about the consequences of war. I guess in Syria it started as a Civil one and became global. And the reason for becoming it global is quite obvious.
The poet says that she is used to all those unpleasant things she is watching and observing it around her. At some point she was afraid of a single bullet but now she can survive even in a snowstorm of bullets. She has understood she has no control over it. So she accepted it as her fate.
When she got tired of running from bullets and bombs, she started seeking shelter in the remains of the bombs left after the explosion. There is only downfall now left on the streets of Damascus. It will never be as beautiful as it used to be. There is fear in the breeze and it has filled the environment of Syria with blood which would freeze once there will be a December in Damascus.
Then the poet continues to express her emotions that now she is not certain that whenever she sees snow coming from the sky, is it really snow?
Are they pellets of bullets or the ashes of her country people who were alive a second ago.
All this causing distrust in the heart of poet to consider snow fall in the way it should be or some kind of torture.
She should embrace the snow as she used to before the war or she should wait and hold her breath and not to breathe and hellon you know the reason why?
Recently, I read one of the poem of SG and when I asked him about the title of the poem he told me that this poem wasn't about some person it was about a country Syria.
So, maybe, and I am not sure but you portrayed the feelings of Damascus. I mean you guys can do anything.
Theme of the poem is about war or its consequences. Tone is mixed like it's harsh, ironic, and suspicious as you said.
The more we pray for things to get settle down there, something more wicked happens again. All we can do is pray for the welfare of our Syrian brothers and sisters.
A vivid portrayal of the tramatic lives lived by many in this world of anger and war. I cannot begin to understand how it must feel not even being able to breath the air for fear of being poisened.
This is an incredibly important piece that takes the reader far out of thier comfort zone and raises awareness that these atrocities are real and being suffered every day by innocent people and their families.
I really hope that this gets nominated because the rest of the world needs to be reminded constantly that we all have an obligation to do all we can to put an end to this
Best wishes Milly x