14th of June 1979 Ahmad Zahir
Dead on the Day of his Birth
--
A poem by Hajar Hussaini
Laili Laili & I loom out of the
summer-quarter
awaiting a new child to become the savior
our king
driving away
the million grasshoppers
their territories pristine
evergreen
abundant market places & nuclear
armed
states
no sculpture is carved
under his name — except
a gravestone
which then became a harmonic clime
for fledgling lovebirds
throughout chapters
monarchies
revolutions
it was blown to pieces
colored bangles
nomad eyes: women
chattering sun faded Panjabi
crowded
bazaar
alley everyone
dancing in maxi
melodies parties
cinematic smiles
everywhere
karachis bedroom walls & graffiti’s
a prodigy
traveling through
time intervals & periodic tables
even geometries
when he sang & sang & sang
till everyone was absolut drunk
– embodying the eccentric
& all those things
changed in forty years forty years
forty years forty years
forty years
of change
now empty chalices & no winery bar daman e Kabul
purple & green grapes
prisoned in wood fibers
exporting
‘an ending / life will eventually
end / there’s no need for submission / if circumstances of our living
is based off submission / there’s no need to live
under
submission’
About the Author: Hajar Hussaini is an Afghan poet living in the U.S. where she pursues an MFA in Poetry at the University of Iowa Writer’s Workshop.
