Akhtar Jawad

Gold Star - 198,810 Points (8-2-1945 / Gorakhpur)

A Slave Girl - Poem by Akhtar Jawad

Believe it or not,
I was born in the Judean Mountains,
between Mediterranean and the Dead See,
somewhere in 2400 B.C.
Believe it or not,
whenever I am burnt
I become once again a virgin maid,
though I was completely burnt twice,
but not burnt to ashes,
I was besieged 23 times,
attacked and assaulted 52 times,
captured and recaptured 44 times.
Now I am used to of being raped
by my changing masters.
When my mighty master rapes me,
I close my eyes
And whisper,
"I am now too old,
no more interested in a fire bath,
burn me to ashes,
and let me taste death,
as an old woman,
let me die in the arms of my children,
some white,
some black,
some yellow,
some brownies.
Some believe in a single God,
some believe in trinity,
and one is atheist,
I love that child,
his father never raped me,
in fact I loved him.
I don't want to rise once again,
as a beautiful maid.
I am now tired of being raped,
again and again."

Topic(s) of this poem: city


Comments about A Slave Girl by Akhtar Jawad

  • Rajnish MangaRajnish Manga (8/24/2016 4:39:00 AM)

    Very poignant narrative. What you have written is true even to this day- in one form or the other. The sufferings of the 'Slave Girl', which is a slur on humanity, have been captured nicely. Thank you, Akhtar Jawad Sahab. (Report)Reply

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  • Kelly KurtKelly Kurt (8/23/2016 1:37:00 PM)

    Damascus, Babylon, Jerusalem and many middle eastern and south Asian cities have known nothing but such fates for not just centuries but millennia. Besieged in the name of religion.
    A very poignant poem, Akhtar
    (Report)Reply

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  • Abduhoo SalamathAbduhoo Salamath (8/23/2016 11:41:00 AM)

    ooh...really i cant beleave...little diffrent type of poem.... nice... (Report)Reply

    2 person liked.
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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Poem Edited: Thursday, August 25, 2016


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