Mosul streets I walk,
Blood on every corner,
Innocence dead and lost,
Somebody please take me away.
This warzone has become,
A hell too much to bear,
There is no life for some,
While others die in despair.
Mosul streets I walk,
Counting bodies on the path,
There is no end to this gore,
No point in keeping false hopes.

My army snakes the mountain-tops
as fields and valleys rent,
The first to ever wear the crown;
laws of nature -bent.

Mother was my wife as well; she as me, a god.
Appearing again 'in-the-end'...
Apocalypse; I am the king
-******!

There was a woman from Iraq
she had a wonderful sack
it dragged on the floor
all red and raw
and now she's got a problem with her back

I searched for you across wild oceans,
Never daring to dream that I would find
Such a *****, dangerous, delicious passion
Which, after more than four hundred summers, still burns hot.
But you are colder now.

When I discovered your riches,
I knew I had to possess you entirely.
The blood lost and the blood lust
Was worth it to make you mine.
But you are bolder now.

I never wanted to set you free.
Your Declaration of Independence nearly destroyed me.
I had to accept your right to Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness,
To lose you completely would be unbearable.
You are the scolder now.

Like a white knight, your white light saved me,
As it seared through flesh, turning skin inside out and the whole world upside down.
You were Oversexed and Overpaid,
But I needed you Over Here beside me.
You are the shoulder now.

Through time and space, our destructive power has bound us together,
I have fallen; my heart is given; my soul is sold.
I'd lie for you, I'd die for you;
Take tooth for tooth and eye for eye for you.
It's all in a sexed up folder now.

Of late, others say you have grown so ugly;
Distorted and deranged with and beyond belief;
Frenzied and overcome with hate, but I still love you,
Still long for our special relationship.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder now.

anna jones ©2017

So he's back ...
George 'Second Iraq
Massacre' Bush,

& I was wondering if or when
it would actually happen
this rising from the foggy
miasma of retirement,

& you do question whether
there's a publicist or it
was discussed around
the family table,
"Well .. its been 8 years now,"
"Is it time yet?"

& apart from a truly puzzling
dancing & swaying appearance
at a black-suit memorial where
he grabbed Michelle's hand &
looked more like a 5 year old
at a birthday party,
well, he's been very quiet,

but of course we've also
been granted the opportunity
to view his oh so charming
paintings,

to see him at work in his studio,
producing dog portraits & simple
naive sincerely primitive famous
people faces akin to art-day at the
old-folks home or a pre-school
honors wall,

& it seems no one wanted his opinion
on anything at all these last years,
but now, oh now he's with us again,
all bashful & "aw shucks" when he's
asked by some obsequious host
about his fondness for Michelle,
& becoming near front-page news
after a mild rebuke of Trump,

& no doubt soon he'll be on Late Night
& such, where Jimmy Kimmel can rustle
his hair & be all smitten & oh so grateful
for the privilege of his company,
& perhaps when Kimmel does chuckle
so sweetly at their dazzling repartee
that night someone could shout out
from the audience ... "Remember the
War Dead",

for its seems America soon forgives
& forgets & its war criminals &
Oliver North & George W. Bush
are allowed to grin & pontificate
& nothing is remembered & isn't
he just aging so well & don't we
just hang on every word & oh
how he matters still.

Next week maybe Kissinger will
come on to entertain us awhile,
sandwiched between cute pet
tricks & some giggling 20 year old
Hollywood starlet hawking her
new blockbuster.

America forgets very, very quickly
doesn't it,
so so quickly.

Knowledge wakes up my dome with bombs thrown down my street.
I wake up, lost in dust & gun shells  
" Shhhh. Be quite. "
As the sound of 1000 soldiers stomp across my heart.
Time stood still.
As my mom gets snatched right in front of me
" MOM, MOM, PLEASE don't take her away!"
I try to get one final word
"I love you. "
But it's heard on the bullet that went threw her brain.
Because of that,
I will never be the same.
America took away the one I adore.
For what. ?
All because of this war. ?
Just because my mom dressed in a long robe that hides her face?
Means she's hiding a terrorist in this place?
My scars
Is ready to enbattle vengeance on the American race.
These open wounds won't stop these open minded bombs
These lies
Won't reverse time
These  open eyes
Won't stop the flashbacks
Of that
" STRAY BULLET! ".
And these soilders,
Won't stop this WAR.

©MH