MICHAEL VON HARPE

MICHAEL VON HARPE Poems

'the sun's fireball sizzling in the sky,
burning away what's left of the old citadel,
wind is choking and takes my breath away,
dust gently covering blood-soaked spaces,
...

lights are glazing,
frozen in the fog,
it's the pinwheels
last smoldering
...

The Best Poem Of MICHAEL VON HARPE

Visiting Aleppo

'the sun's fireball sizzling in the sky,
burning away what's left of the old citadel,
wind is choking and takes my breath away,
dust gently covering blood-soaked spaces,
not one tiny bird is calling, not one tiny bell,
but worms clean skulls with no hiding places,
iconoclasts take museums last remains,
yellow dogs gnawing white than whiter bones,
who bothers what's this suffering city's spell,
rather searching for last non-dried out well,
for a window watching last walled-in homes,
oh rich Aleppo, with Hethiters of 1000 years,
oh poor Aleppo, eyes pierced by many spears,
by humans torching children's hospital refuge,
burnt October 2016 as torch of final doom,
taking away their lives in Celan's fuge of death,
when fleeing down to cellar's crowded room,
cluster bombs forever take away their breath,
old market's shanties sizzling in a sky-high blaze,
barbars cultured killings: just their normal waste,
turning history to dust, cult of sins without relent,
sukul-medina: to all who knew her an eternal light,
a star of tolerance, a belief ion universal human right,
now fading away in grace, its pulse and heart-beat,
beauty as your heart-felt beacon just like your plight,
as memory, as picture with eyes of your latest child,
sweet is your air like chlorine from red jerry cans,
a deadly stealth in lungs with sundowning rays of light,
heats-up your heart hidden in protective night,
wiping off all tears that no longer freely flow,
in search for slightest flicker of life that starts to grow,
in millions piece of rubble with just one sign of hope,
one drop in one 3000 years old majestic viaduct,
with our hearts lying with you in digged-up coffins,
as long as there's just one flower not dying right-away,
as long as the decay flies-off with winds strong and hot,
as long as there's one last soul alive with no time to rot,
let's open one last gate, church, mosque or place to pray...'

MikeHarp
december 10,2016

MICHAEL VON HARPE Comments

Charles John Mueller jr. 12 September 2018

One of the best refugee and war poems I've ever read, from the heart to the heart....congratulations...

1 0 Reply
George Middleton London 26 December 2017

a great poem, a kind of desperate call for resurrecting or helping to let survive Aleppo as symbol for history and mankind, let me thank the author for exhibiting such a good example of war or refuge poetry...George.

1 0 Reply
Michael Von Harpe 15 May 2017

thanks, George, it's free to read and free to sympathise for all, Michael.

2 0 Reply
Michael Von Harpe 15 May 2017

I read it, it's a great poem on human suffering at Aleppo. I draw my hat, a well-targeted and well-described impressionist picture or memory or plead...thanks to the author, George Brendon, Southhampton

2 0 Reply

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