THE ROHINGYAS

the hammer of

the army beats

down upon them

laws of the state

dispossess them

eagles that feed

on time’s liver

devour them whole

and icons of justice

abandon them

they are scattered

in their thousands

across borders

and boundaries

and no one speaks for them

no one weeps at the rape of them

the laws say they cannot

buy land in their own lands

they’re dispossessed

of citizenship in the place

where they are citizens.

they’re the image

of powerlessness in

our time, the image of

vulnerability

of the peaceful way

in a time when

force moves

the world

and a religion

of light

dealing

darkness

on the edge of the world

where the centre

howls in its hollowness

a race of human beings

are perishing.

the world it seems

is good at being deaf.

the planet screams

women are raped

men are crushed

and tyranny

bursts at the seams

of its map and great powers

are silent. freedom’s hand

bloody and broken

is compromised

by the feasting

on hearts in the towers.

it seems there are two worlds

in one pipelines

confer immunity

tanks and guns break

the flesh

in the other blood

runs fresh

skulls are broken

on the pavements of history.

nations preserve

their equanimity.

this silence is a mystery

can you watch a

man being flayed

alive in the open

wound of the street?

can you watch tanks

crush human feet?

and a religion

of peace

dealing

in agony?

this silence is a mystery.