This is a sample from my Kindle novel "Not In My Name" about the development of home grown suicide bombers in the UK. Part of the novel is told in the form of internet forums, since that is where the new politics is being fought out, but the sample below is a poem. There is a long tradition of Arabic Poetry, including both romantic and courtly verse. As Islam consolidated its influence, the more ribald aspects of poetry disappeared and the object of the love expressed by the poet frequently was that of Islam and faith itself.
Capitation (poem
by Aki)
Eyes
cast down, neck braced by the wood
Impressed
grain logs the ineffable ruling.
Court
artist sand, worm’s upraised viewing
Death
mask imprinted with my blood.
I blanch
while the ascending ground darkens
Trading
places, I divine sacrifice not martyr.
In the
arena, a recount of the charges
My
basket case nerves nod mute accord.
There is
no bucket beneath to slam dunk
Neither
Jacobin traitor, nor political agitator
My poll
will not be mounted upon any pole.
All
glassy eyed it will be held up high
Revolved
around, to be cheered all four sides.
My
lolling tongue and foaming maw
Are
requested to shape the words of Shahada.
Lip
service paid now, whence in default before
Churlish
to supplicate for a miracle.
I hear
the soft sandalled tread
An
executioner’s shadow enshrouding
As the
sword’s molecules dash on deck
Each
anticipates bloody anointing.
I shut
my eyes, no desire to see
The
separation of my apostate head,
From my
mutinous body. Instead,
An
involuntary prayer, to whom I am unsure.
I
hearken the shimmering swish of a scimitar
Perceive
behind a field of dancing light.
Beauteous
spectral wake as blade parts the air.
Not taut
like steel, but floppy green
Long-stemmed
bloom presented afore me
A
declaration of love, gift of life
Revivifying
my enervated senses.
I
unfasten my lids, unshutter my gaze
Winch my
head up from the stump
And view
only the one, you my love
As you
drop your veil, to reveal
A
different red hue sun glinting.
You
shake away the baying dogs
With a
sweep of your head
Your
welcoming arms grant private audience
I stand
and stride, a little shakily
No
mirage you, unflinching in bearing
A cradle
of acceptance
Perfectly
tailored for my body
Hands
safeguarding my bare crown.
On
approach they spangle and change
Now palm
fronds provide our joint canopy
My bride
elixir births me anew
Returns
me to my root safely.
Intact,
yet only half a man still
Unblockishly lower my gaze
and modesty
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