A Victor Hugo

Monsieur Hugo, je vous demande pardon.

Monsieur Gringoire, je vous en supplie, pardonnez moi.

Je mène une vie plutôt bohémienne depuis le 23 Juin 2016.

And so all is now lost when we walk upside down.

All’s turned topsy turvy and what was is no longer true.

It’s a dog’s Brexit with politicians jockeying for new positions

Without conviction, meaning, purpose or anything but self regard.

Where European summits are petulant enfants terribles

And meaningless words flying here, there and everywhere

Like punches thrown mano a mano because we are men.

All’s upside down – so much so that we see little too clearly:

Trump, Clinton, Obama, May, Hollande, Putin

What are they to their predecessors: Roosevelt, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Churchill, De Gaulle, Lenin?

The comparison draws a world standing on its head

With little meaning and less purpose, belief or reality

Beyond self self self seeking the bottom line –

Where lying and cheating are clever business tactics

And thieving is successful investment worthy of La Fontaine

Whose Fables have now become back to front truths

Regaling us on social media – except when hacked

And we are forced to converse – that is talk to each other

Where I talk, you listen, you respond, I listen, I smile and add a comment

And you create a new thesis of the previous until

We marry and live happily ever after – then we divorce on Twitter.

Ah! Monsieur Pierre Gringoire, I shall be your Esméralda

Marchante accompagnée par ma chèvre

Which has more sense than our Parliamentarians

Making it all up as we go along – making what up?

I can not articulate their view for fear of being branded anti-Semitic

When all I seek is a peace where we Palestinians live in harmony

With our neighbours whatever their or or faiths might be

For we are one in our humanity and fellow feelings and aspirations.

What naïve talk this is “hypocrite lecteur! mon semblable, mon frère!”…

It shows that it is the poet in you that had turned upside down

Whilst the world carries on in its delightfully normal way

In Aleppo, Mosul, Gaza, Sana’a, Crimea, Sinai and many other places.

Nothing has really changed mon vieux –

You are old and tired and your clouded vision

Sees things differently and without borders

Just a blurred image of a chaotic life

Filled with words, hurt, hate and strife.

Seek ye a tree, sit below its canopy,

Enjoy the shade and colourful panoply.

That is all that is left you for now- by the by;

To dream, seek truths and gently float on high.

Categorised in: Article

This post was written by Faysal Mikdadi