Aleppo - Safely Going Home Poem by Ibrar Ahmad Siddiqi

Where I belonged once.
My roots are no more.
One day, I woke up.
Thy sky, blue sky, shining through what was left of my roof.
Gathering my things, my family has gone.
Rubble has covered my room.
Concrete dust, now my make-up.
Shoes are nowhere I left them last.
The night surprise, a most unwelcome blast.
Over yonder, family and friends homes raised to earth.
Crimson spots, marking someone's lasts stand.
Noises no more, my ears bleed out.
Just an eerie silence.
People see my head, both sides showing the obvious.
But our plight together, is more important.
Blue skies filled with black smoke and debris.
Shrapnel raining death, cutting survivors to pieces.
We all run to shelters, so little in number to hide from this hell.
But our numbers grow less.
All because of this daily onslaught and dealing is what is left, the mess.
I cannot fathom what's going on.
But for four years, I have missed lessons.
My school friends dead, as are my teachers.
We scramble, we move.
Find cars or anything to get out of this hell.
Checkpoints and snipers, slowly dog our progress.
Children near me, who I cannot hear, crying out with tears.
Eyes so innocent, full of bewilderment,
Out roll tears for kissing our cheeks as out comforting mother once did.
Faces showing nothing but fear.
Our Mothers and Fathers, dismembered or have sought refuge elsewhere.
Other people like me, we're not lonely.
For my family are buried not in coffins.
But crushed to death by our own homes.
Homes that become their tombs.
Travelling under the starless dark..
Trying to save ourselves from our predicament.
I thank God constantly for not taking my vision..
Our truck has stopped.
Metal beast of burden taking more than it could.
For we, are at the shore.
People in close negotiation with each other.
Hands gesturing for us to come forth.
I look back, whilst anonymously in the crowd.
Our driver's handed over some cash.
But behind his head, I see a quick flash.
Looks like he won't be coming on board with us after all.
I turn my head back, tears in my eyes, suddenly wiped clear.
I am accustomed to death, deception and the double dealing.
My emotions, like my hearing is gone.
I am placed into a cabin with other kids, for what looks like a journey to a new safe haven.
I sleep, I sleep off the past few years.
People I loved, appear in my dreams.
Appear to be happy and smiling.
Beckoning me to come.
My smile and heart for once, in unison.
High like a kite floating on currents of happiness.
Rudely, I am awakened.
Men with machine guns ask us to come out.
I see angry adults, faces meaning business.
I gather my fellow children.
Calming them down with my smile.,
This might carry on for some time, a while.
We are forced out into the the open.
Moonlight, casting a welcome beam.
As if it kissed the Mediterranean all night.
I look around, lifeboats are lowered.
We are forced down into them.
We are being cast aside.
The Arab in all of us, beckon Allah to save us.
I guess the adults are leaving us for they are on their knees.
Shot in the head for resisting.
We waste no time, clambering aboard.
This night is getting longer and fraught.
Warm, it will be.
From my eyes, from what I can see.
There are over a hundred people in this lifeboat.
The ship has moved.
Moved away full ahead.
Propellers and shafts churning through the water.
Our flotilla of boats bobbing precariously as water invites itself in.
We have nothing to bale it out.
People are angry and shout.
Other boats drift away.
Our elders are gesticulating.
The big ship may turn around, in hope,
Our fate sealed.
The boats drift forward with the current.
We are at mercy with the ocean.
We would be here for some time.
As I drift asleep, cosseted by bodies.
My dreams begin again.
Mother and Father smiling, beckoning me to reach their arms.
I dream of home.
The home within I felt safe and loved.
My dream carries me through the night.
But like that morning when I hadn't heard the shell strike.
I now sink, slowly depths I never felt.
Asleep in my watery grave, on my way safely.
Where I belonged once.
My roots are no more.
One day, I woke up.
Thy sky, blue sky, shining through what was left of my roof.
Gathering my things, my family has gone.
Rubble has covered my room.
Concrete dust, now my make-up.
Shoes are nowhere I left them last.
The night surprise, a most unwelcome blast.
Over yonder, family and friends homes raised to earth.
Crimson spots, marking someone's lasts stand.
Noises no more, my ears bleed out.
Just an eerie silence.
People see my head, both sides showing the obvious.
But our plight together, is more important.
Blue skies filled with black smoke and debris.
Shrapnel raining death, cutting survivors to pieces.
We all run to shelters, so little in number to hide from this hell.
But our numbers grow less.
All because of this daily onslaught and dealing is what is left, the mess.
I cannot fathom what's going on.
But for four years, I have missed lessons.
My school friends dead, as are my teachers.
We scramble, we move.
Find cars or anything to get out of this hell.
Checkpoints and snipers, slowly dog our progress.
Children near me, who I cannot hear, crying out with tears.
Eyes so innocent, full of bewilderment,
Out roll tears for kissing our cheeks as out comforting mother once did.
Faces showing nothing but fear.
Our Mothers and Fathers, dismembered or have sought refuge elsewhere.
Other people like me, we're not lonely.
For my family are buried not in coffins.
But crushed to death by our own homes.
Homes that become their tombs.
Travelling under the starless dark..
Trying to save ourselves from our predicament.
I thank God constantly for not taking my vision..
Our truck has stopped.
Metal beast of burden taking more than it could.
For we, are at the shore.
People in close negotiation with each other.
Hands gesturing for us to come forth.
I look back, whilst anonymously in the crowd.
Our driver's handed over some cash.
But behind his head, I see a quick flash.
Looks like he won't be coming on board with us after all.
I turn my head back, tears in my eyes, suddenly wiped clear.
I am accustomed to death, deception and the double dealing.
My emotions, like my hearing is gone.
I am placed into a cabin with other kids, for what looks like a journey to a new safe haven.
I sleep, I sleep off the past few years.
People I loved, appear in my dreams.
Appear to be happy and smiling.
Beckoning me to come.
My smile and heart for once, in unison.
High like a kite floating on currents of happiness.
Rudely, I am awakened.
Men with machine guns ask us to come out.
I see angry adults, faces meaning business.
I gather my fellow children.
Calming them down with my smile.,
This might carry on for some time, a while.
We are forced out into the the open.
Moonlight, casting a welcome beam.
As if it kissed the Mediterranean all night.
I look around, lifeboats are lowered.
We are forced down into them.
We are being cast aside.
The Arab in all of us, beckon Allah to save us.
I guess the adults are leaving us for they are on their knees.
Shot in the head for resisting.
We waste no time, clambering aboard.
This night is getting longer and fraught.
Warm, it will be.
From my eyes, from what I can see.
There are over a hundred people in this lifeboat.
The ship has moved.
Moved away full ahead.
Propellers and shafts churning through the water.
Our flotilla of boats bobbing precariously as water invites itself in.
We have nothing to bale it out.
People are angry and shout.
Other boats drift away.
Our elders are gesticulating.
The big ship may turn around, in hope,
Our fate sealed.
The boats drift forward with the current.
We are at mercy with the ocean.
We would be here for some time.
As I drift asleep, cosseted by bodies.
My dreams begin again.
Mother and Father smiling, beckoning me to reach their arms.
I dream of home.
The home within I felt safe and loved.
My dream carries me through the night.
But like that morning when I hadn't heard the shell strike.
I now sink, slowly depths I never felt.
Asleep in my watery grave, on my way safely.
Safely, going home.

I Siddiqi 31.7.2015