(For the prompt: To be a woman in a warzone)
***
for her: she / lover / mourning her man / destroyed in an airstrike. Like a / moment, / gone, in a moment, / gone — left with nothing to bury, / grieving: all the time, grieving. / for her: she / mother / watching her children / shrink, cooking imaginary meals, / promising them, promising the / moon, promising herself, the / day is long, the night, / longer, / hungry: all the time, hungry. / for her: she / woman / searching for a private corner in a crowded tent, her / her body working to a calendar not / set by war, / wanting to be clean, / wanting to rest — the / nearest toilet far / down a road, pockmarked / by craters, watched by snipers, / hurting: all the time, hurting. / for her: she / provider / sitting, standing, / pacing, trying — afraid to leave / the children, afraid she won’t come / back, afraid they won’t be there, / needing to go, needing to stay, / afraid: all the time, afraid. / for her: she/ human / making up light / in the overpowering dark, / making up tomorrows with / rubble and sky, making up / dreams with stars and air — / nowhere to go, no one to / go to — forcing a smile out of sorrow, / hoping: all the time, hoping. /
for her: /
she / hero /
spare a thought /
for /
her:/ fighting: all the time fighting.
***
#Napowrimo #Glopowrimo
#WriteRight
#April2024 25/30
THOUGHT PURGE 
A vivid, heartfelt and timely poem! The atrocities, the pain, the loss experience by women in war zones… it’s all heartbreaking.
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It really is… thanks Khaya.
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One of my best friends in China — with whom I had no common language — was the mom of a good friend. She had been a guerilla fighter during the anti-Japanese war (WW II) in the mountains of Hainan. No one I met during my year teaching in the PRC was as happy, wise, philosophical and open as she was. I couldn’t talk to her about her experiences though we had conversations in our way (which her daughter-in-law and son just couldn’t believe) “What do you find to talk about with the old mother and HOW do you talk to each other?” I met a lot of survivors of that war and the cultural revolution. It made me think that if you survive all that you hold onto some inscrutable something. Your poem evokes that.
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Perhaps they are holding on to that something that keeps them going through day after day of horror…but how do they even begin to process the grief and loss… staggering. Am glad your friend came out of the war with a positive outlook.
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I came to understand WHAT in one case. I imagine it is unique for each person.
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Amazing story… thanks for sharing. And yes I suppose each person’s experience would be unique and incredible in its own way.
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Powerful and necessary and poignantly expressed. The whole thing but these lines especially are so moving: ” for her: she/ human / making up light / in the overpowering dark, / making up tomorrows with / rubble and sky, making up / dreams with stars and air — / nowhere to go, no one to / go to” ❤️
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Thanks so much…. this poem should not exist…the whole situation should not be… 😦
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Absolutely, Rajani. I hear ya.
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Through your words, i feel her desperation. So many living this unimaginable hell. When will it end?
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Thanks Sherry… I hope young people around the world will get us past this… they are the hope.
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