This Sort of Thing...


Me and My Muezzin



Standing alone

As cold as the tons of steel

That carry me

This floating granary

A United Nations gift of guilt

For gaping mouths

On the bottom shelf

Of a bare-shelved continent


Gliding through still waters

The sweetness of the Bitter Lakes

As black as this Egyptian night

Tranquillity between two seas

Look out for danger, I'm told

Wishing for eyes more beady

Not your usual teenage symptom

Of body image insecurity


But I am safe

With my trusty walkie-talkie

And binoculars

The sixth best pair on the ship

Far behind my lonesome post

Polo necks with mugs of cocoa

Waiting for that alarm call

What if I don't call?


Only chattering teeth disturb the silence

And bow waves lapping on the shores

I sing The Rising of the Moon

But it doesn't

Yearning for that danger

Just a little to keep me awake

Perhaps an Arabian pirate ship

With a flask of tea


Imagine Haydar Ghazi

All flashing eyes and teeth

His bloody scimitar scythes

A great scarlet gash in the eastern sky

Reveals a mosque and sacred dome

Sudden silhouettes

Something to see at last

Good morning Sinai


From a minaret a muezzin’s call

A haunting song broadcast

On a mystical wavelength

Invites me to another world

Words I'll never understand

But a beckoning reminder

Of Angelus bells in my childhood

Enchantment chills me more


Daylight comes, brings horror

Manifestations of a recent war

Expose themselves on Suez banks

Rusty tanks and fighter jets

Dredged to clear the morbid depths

Fill gaps between village embers

People died here, families wept

Fleeing torrents of fear and hate


Saltwater wells in teenage eyes

Things they'd only ever seen

In cosy television lounges

Reality hitting hard and fast

In the time it took the sun to rise

On darkness that would always stay

I crave to go back to the dawn

It was beautiful then


Me and My Muezzin

Number of comments: 0

:) :( :D ;) :| :P |-) (inlove) :O ;( :@ 8-) :S (flower) (heart) (star)