Zywa We start with prayer

     Boots, your size, laundry basket and soap
     each his own soap, your body
     is a temple, your hand is God's


She is crying wildly in front of us
in a nightgown, her hair tousled
Barefoot she wants to stop me

     Here, take the book, guard it
     with your life, your gun and the bullet
     belts. Exercise!


Her family is hiding, I think
Beware, before it's too late
I must... Is she coming closer?

     Headscarves, every morning
     a box of clean clothes and ammunition
     Get ready for training


Must I shoot, is it true?
Are the clean hands for others?
Forget about the mess, be proud!

     You turn in the laundry before the appeal
     That's it, the rest comes later
     We start with prayer


Which of us did it? Where
is the heavenly light, the blessing on the silence
on the debris and the blood in the sand?

Poem 2028
Amsterdam, 2019-01-13

Syria (ar-Raqqa in 2014)
Collection: Short Sermons 
Keyword: Death: kill 
Keyword: Islam^ 
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