Straight-jacket memories

Of those morphine flavored nights

These tears of blood can almost sedate the scarred and maimed souls

Desperate cries from the voiceless, forgotten children

Are befallen upon deaf ears of blind savages who are disguised as Liberators

Shrapnel hurricane turning a sage into a madman

And a madman into a prophet

I try to close my eyes to imagine a time where the delicate showperaks outnumbered the polished Russian rockets

I try to imagine those days of the innocent kids playing “tushla” and danda kilak and chasing the gowzanboors off the streets of Kabul

I try to reach for the untouchable

To scream for what cannot be…

1)Showperak  = butterflies

2) tushla  = marble balls

3) danda kilak =  Afghan version of stick ball