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Submission Guidelines: Send 1-3 unpublished poems in the body of an email (NO ATTACHMENTS) to nvneditor[at]gmail.com. No simultaneous submissions. Use "Verse News Submission" as the subject line. Send a brief bio. No payment. Authors retain all rights after 1st-time appearance here. Scroll down the right sidebar for the fine print.
Showing posts with label Yazidi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yazidi. Show all posts

Friday, August 09, 2024

I WILL

by Xebat Bradost

translated from the Kurdish by Sarwa Azeez


Advocates for justice for Iraq’s Yazidi community say much more needs to be done 10 years on to address the brutal genocide it experienced at the hands of Islamic State militants on August 3, 2014, and its aftermath. On August 3, 2014, Islamic State militants invaded Iraq’s Sinjar province brutally attacking, killing, displacing, and enslaving hundreds of thousands of Yazidis in their ancient homeland in the country’s north. Ten years on, more than 6,000 women and children remain captives of the Islamic State with nearly 2,800 still missing. Many of the displaced still live in camps which Iraq says will close. —VOA, August 4, 2023. Photo: Displaced people from the minority Yazidi sect, fleeing violence from forces loyal to the Islamic State in Sinjar town, walk towards the Syrian border, on the outskirts of Sinjar mountain, near the Syrian border town of Elierbeh of Al-Hasakah Governorate, Aug. 11, 2014.


Keep walking 
towards the Zagros
womb of the world,
find an oak tree there 
and rest my back against it.

I am weary of the desert's stuffy heat,
the weight of history's shadows—
stories of our mass killings,
our mass graves,
echoing through me.

I will rebuild the place 
where humans first met 
the peaceful face of God,
stretch my arms to the sun 
like those mountain mornings.

I will wear a white dress,
sit in front of a bonfire,
sing my holy Gathas
three times a day,
renew my vows 
to my wise Pir and my ancestors.

I will carry a sack full of plant seeds,
return to the Daitya River,
create streams from it
bury the seeds 
and rebuild my shattered life.


Xebat Bradost is a poet born and raised in Bashur, Iraqi Kurdistan. She writes in Kurdish, using both the Sorani and Kirmanji dialects. Xebat's work has been published in various local publications. She is the author of the poetry pamphlet A Hundred Coral Beads. Her poetry resonates with a deep sense of cultural identity and the pursuit of liberation.


Sarwa Azeez, a Kurdish poet, researcher, and translator, is a Fulbright alumna who earned her second master's in Creative Writing from Nebraska-Lincoln University. Her debut poetry pamphlet, "Remote," published in the UK by 4Word in 2019. Nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Sarwa's work graces numerous publications including Parentheses Journal, Writing for A Woman's Voice, The International Journal of Genocide Studies and Prevention, the other side of hope, Collateral, and more.

Monday, July 31, 2017

FOR SOUHAYLA

by Vera Ignatowitsch 


Souhayla, one of the many Yazidi woman who were kidnapped by the Islamic State, outside the home of an uncle who wants her story to be told. Credit Alex Potter for The New York Times. You can listen to her story on “The Daily” podcast of The New York Times: After Mosul, Iraq, was liberated, two New York Times reporters encountered a group of women who had been enslaved by the Islamic State for years. Days after the city’s fall, they still believed that the militant group had taken over the world. Guests: Rukmini Callimachi, who covers terrorism and the Islamic State for The Times, and Andy Mills, a producer for “The Daily” who is in Iraq with her.


Hush child, it’s not time to tell
of the horrors you endured,
of the seven shades of hell
drowned in while your bones matured.
Do not ask. It took too long,
endless years to bring you back.
Flesh survived repeated wrong.
Lurking in the cul-de-sac
of your thighs a childhood waits
to be mourned with healing dirge.
Searing sorrow contemplates
crucial years lived on a verge,
stifling screams as each one mounts,
riding you in crude abuse.
Sleep now. One day we may count
wounds that do not bear excuse.

          You do not know. You were not there.
          It never stopped. They didn’t care.



Vera Ignatowitsch is addicted to poetry, raspberries, and occasionally good scotch. Her poems have appeared in 2 anthologies and a number of publications including The Lyric. She is editor of Formal & Rhyming poetry for Better Than Starbucks Poetry Magazine.

Saturday, August 16, 2014

HATE

by  F.I. Goldhaber


Hands up, don't shoot. Outrage in Missouri over police shooting of black teen #MichaelBrown http://pic.twitter.com/ziXRNVgeUf http://youtu.be/NRaqVIcXIdk


Billy said we didn't start the fire
But the world burns.
Muslims slaughter Christians in Iraq.
Yazidi flee.
Israelis and Gaza break truce once more.
ISIS fights Kurds.
Indians gang rape women daily.
Exiles swarm Chad.
Russia marches on Ukraine again.
Pakistan riots.
Azerbaijans kill Armenians.
Al-Qaeda plots.
Boko Haram kidnaps young girls, boys.
Syria bleeds.

And in the land of the free cops kill.
Unarmed black men
executed by police daily.
Four black deaths in
one month capture the nation's concern.
But we don't learn
of so many more who die only
because their skin
color offended men of privilege.
Driving while black
in U.S., a capital offense.
Mothers teach sons
to raise hands, acquiesce ... but still
must bury them.


After more than three decades, poet and storyteller  F.I. Goldhaber continues writing professionally. As a reporter, editor, business writer, and marketing communications consultant, she produced words for newspapers, corporations, governments, and non-profits in five states.