jihadi bride

because it was war

and she a child perplexed 

by the suffocations of home

groomed betrothed and taken up

as a bride of the prophet

to be the advance reward 

of the martyr’s promise

for martyrdom for sacrifice

for men made from boys

because it was war

because it was holy

and she a blessing in disguise

she bore witness to horror 

and bore children

from death into death

because it was holy

because of faith

in the face of infidelity

and the profanity of unbelievers

for faith denied and faith abandoned

retribution plunged its blade

munitions exploded

blood was let

because of faith

because the blade

that cuts one heart

cuts all hearts

the child soldier and his doxy bride

all the collateral flesh and bone

every by-stander and every innocent

cut down in crossfires

enemies in name only

beheaded into waste-bins

summarily executed

blood on the sand

sand in the blood

water tears and weeping 

witness made blind

because the blade

because she regrets

a child with child corpses

to remember for her sins

she remembers home but home

forgets the child she was

will not even prosecute 

her juvenile delinquency

death to the infidel

she is dispossessed

because she regrets

© Brian Hill

Shamima Begum says she regrets publicising desire to return to UK

Brian has been 50 years a poet. One-time designer and film-maker; long ago, the rhyme-slinger, cartoon cowboy, and planetarium poet; now feverishly stringing words together in the hope of making sense.

Weighed in the Balance

I am expected to hate you, Shamima,
though in truth, I don’t.
Only four letters
but it’s a big word:
HATE.
Keyboard warriors shout it in capital letters,
tapping out one-fingered rants of detestation,
sticking it to the populist dissidents
who dare to rebel against the social-media throng.
Self-opinionated, seething condemnation,
spewed with passion that threatens and warns:
there is no room for disagreement here.
It’s all her own fault, of course.
She made her bed now she can lie in it.
She knew what she was doing.
Age is no excuse
(because 15 year-old girls always make sensible decisions!).
She’s a terrorist without remorse.
She’s a danger,
she’s evil
she deserves everything she gets.
Her brown eyes and brown skin betray her:
she’s a Muslim,
never really British (only like it or not, she was!).
She was legally a child,
radicalised, incited to hatred
must we match hate for hate?
She cradles a new-born in her arms
(the sins of the mother are borne in the son?).
She’s a politicians distraction from Brexit obsession.
Whatever happened to due-process?
To fair, balanced, judgements?
Do we no longer listen to testimony,
weigh evidence in the scales of Lady Justice
then pronounce sentence,
match punishment to the crime?
Maybe it is us that is on trial now,
our standards,
our values,
our British-ness, even,
hanging in the balance?
We don’t judge and convict in the pages of the Daily Mail
(except, sometimes we do!)
Rehabilitation, redemption, compassion,
truth, justice . . . hate.
What weigh will the scales tip?
Perhaps we have more to lose than to gain
in this game of blame and shame?

© Gifford Savage

Shamima Begum citizenship decision sets a dangerous precedent

Gifford is from Bangor, Northern Ireland, has had work published with Lagan Online, was short-listed for the Bangor Poetry Competition 2018 and has read at events throughout Northern Ireland.