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Said Al-waely

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A Request

Over here
The time stops
In the wide corner from the cosmos,
The time stops
In domains that infinite
From doorsteps of shooting stars,
The time stops
Everywhere,
The time stops.
Then
The demonstrations follow in succession
From all sides
From all people
those who were born and died,
Those who were born
and are still alive,
And those who will be born,
Carrying candles
That spurt vermillion blood,
And the signs they tore
From the blue clearness of the Iraqi sky
Written on
"God"
Hasn't Iraq's ground had enough blood poured on?

Detroit

4/5/2004


 

Written: Jamal Almudafer
Translated : Said Alwaely
Date: 01 / 01 / 2007

 

 

The Dialogue of the Chopped Head

Short Story

 

 

Introduction:

This is a real story that took place in Iraq caused by the violent acts, which whipped out hundreds of innocents, when the criminals killed the father then cut a hole in his chest and cut his son's head and placed it inside his chest. And by the father's cadaver in the morgue was the cadaver of a young woman who they killed and plucked her eyes and screwed them to her hands. These were the most horrible crimes in humanity.

 

* * * * * * *



A map of frozen blood painted on the floor of the morgue, identical to the distribution of the land areas and the oceans on the surface of the earth. And in that corner are fruit boxes with hidden heads chopped from their bodies, except for the son's small head that is hidden in his father's chest, when the criminals killed his father then cut a hole in his chest and cut the son's head and stuffed it inside his father's chest.
The cadaver was laid on the morgue's floor; the morgue could no longer handle the large amount of innocents that were killed in different ways. Some of them were drilled by the electric driller before they were killed, some without heads, and some stabbed in many different places. The son's eyes watch the never seen before place warily, the electric tools, axes, screwdrivers, sharp knives, and so many other tools used in judicial medicine.
Two eyes lurk the place clockwise until they reach the eyes screwed to the girl's hands. Her eyes were glittering, like a car's lights. The boy's head was cautious; the girl might take his place in his father's chest, as do other woman that cause family problems because of jealousy. The head said, "I never felt a day like this warm that contains me. How wide is your heart my father? This heart that I see is the size of my palm. This heart that accommodated all of my mother's foolishness, but why did you tell me you didn't have any money when I asked to buy candy? Here is a lot of money. You are not churl, my father, but you just wanted to spend your money wisely, I'm joking." He looked back to the left. The girl's eyes were looking straight ahead at him strangely. The head hid itself inside the hole to keep the girl from taking his place. "Oh father, were there any other women in your life other then my mother? Oh if she knew, she would have turned your life into hell. She is very angry, but kind hearted. And when she calms down she tries to apologies or to do other things to let you know that she regrets." The head tried to lurk what's around him. He turned his eyes in a circular motion searching the whole place and pauses his eyes on the girl's cadaver. Her eyes were looking straight ahead the whole time. "I'll never leave my father for you to take over him. I'll stay glued to him forever. The criminals will return to take your gray eyes. But I'll return with my father to my mother. She is preparing diner for us and the hungry people. For I see the visitors have filled our house."
The morgue workers entered to take the cadavers. The son's head felt that the cadavers will be moved to a different place and perhaps, they might place him away from his father. He slowly hid himself deeper and deeper in the body from the workers sight. But one of the workers noticed the missing head that used to be in the father's body. Someone must have stolen the head and maybe there is a secret in its disappearing. The workers got busy looking for the missing head in the morgue.
There is a missing head in the morgue, the head that became the conversation among the people and the judicial medicine. And maybe even the old man that worked in the judicial medicine ever since youth, has never seen such a disgusting view like the one he saw yesterday: A chopped head inside an opened chest cadaver. Everyone searches for the head afraid of the news spreading among the people, the workers, the doctors, the manager, and the minister.
They took the cadavers in coffins to bury in the Alshaykh Mairouf Graveyard. Over 200 cadavers, but there was a missing head. Where did that head disappear!? They stacked the coffins as if they were merchandise unloaded from a harbor. Who ever saw those stacked coffins never thought that they were actually cadavers.
The son's head whispered in the end of his father's ear from inside, "If they ask you about me, tell them that I left and never returned, or that thieves kidnapped me and you are to go report me missing. But you are to tell my mother that I'm with you so she won't worry about my kidnapping, or perhaps, she might reveal the secret because women can't keep secrets like she taught me, as they always speak what's in their heart."
The truck containing the coffins passed through the capital city's streets. The people look at the merchandise dripping blood, not knowing what the truck contains. The sun was shining vertically on the city. The people were hiding in the bus stop stations, others had newspapers on their heads, and some stood under the shade of the electricity pole. The truck turned toward the hunch backed bridge, which held itself on its two arms over the Tigris River.
There are heads falling in the river. The sky is raining heads. There are no clouds, no signs of other living creatures, and no UFO's dropping those heads. The child's head whispered again in his father's ear, "look, my father, there are heads falling in the river, identical to the balls we play with, but with eyes, ears, noses, and mouths. They are not balls… heads… heads…" And finally, the father said, "Balls… balls…" the child responded, "Heads… heads…" and the whispering began between the father and the child's head: "Heads…balls… heads… balls… heads… balls… hea… bal… he… ba…h...b…
The sky is raining harder and harder… the heads are falling on the city, forming huge waves in the river, huger and huger. Abnormal movement, more and more waves, the water level increases, the river is irritating, god's anger… god's anger… Some people race home, some hide in underground sanctuaries, and some in nearby stores, scared of the falling heads and the starting tsunami… It is the deluge… the city started to drown… the water color was deep red like the frozen blood on the morgue's floor …
The heads are still falling harder and harder on the city... they are now forming sky scrapers… Those smashed heads, which are identical to flat balls, blocked the sunlight from the city… the singing echo fills the sky… "heads… balls… heads… balls… hbeadlsls… heeeeeeeeeeaddddsss… the son's head hid deeper and melted in all the space of the father's body and got lost with the crowded heads that fell on the city in a non-winter day. There is no longer a missing head.
 

* * * * * * *

 

Jamal Almudafer was born in Iraq on 1958. He is a member of The Iraqi Journalist and Writers, the Arab Journalist Union, and the League of Iraqi Fonts. He was the Editor-in-Chief of the Souawt Altimem Newspaper. He has four collections of books ready for publishing: Ajnehat ahkhfafeesh (stories), moden tefuth bekaret aljoudran (Poetry), politic and literature Essays, and love and Lisle poems.
 

 


 

 

Websites:

www.tahayati.com

www.iraqen.net

www.SaidWaely.com


A Mug of Water

A Mug of Water

Nude and slender
The dawn opens its eyes,
In-between its eyelids
A polar twilight,
A tremble...
Dangled
The sky's arms.
Fading,
Like the morning star,
A rhythm ...
On the flow of pains,
Vapor of the head
Loosens its ambush ...
The things are servile
Like the far away horizon…
Earth,
Like a blue drop of circumference
In the dark corner
Its light: the stars.
Centers
Come and go
Heavy blindness
Pervades the circumference,
And the dawn
Possessor of white hair
Emits his intestine's crowds
And gnaws the aim.
Dome Blue eyes
Dangles
From depth of the maze…
Eyelashes covered by branches,
Created Like the haze of canyons
And hide the secret.
An eternal desert
Golden cinctures
Dances in-between ear and ear
Its gray tail
The depth of circumference.
The summit of the patch slides
Like a surreal pole
And in a gelatinous cave
An earthy progeny lime
Like the tropic snakes Inhaling the fire.
And then for the vapor be
From coronation of a lie like a coronet!
But the truth
Like the air which we inhale,
Mug of a water Achromatic,
Taste,
And smell.
I hear the gulf under the rocks,
To sheathe my soul
In the veins of my bones,
I watch it slide
As a fish In the neck of a bird.

Written and Translated by: Said Alwaely

Said Al-Waely first poetry book in Arabic.

Said Alwaely 2007 Ambassador - Poetry.com

Said Alwaely 2007 Editors Choice Award - Poetry.com

Said Alwaely 2006 Ambassador - Poetry.com

Said Alwaely 2006 Editors Choice Award - Poetry.com
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