Thursday, May 17, 2012

Darling Tripoli,

I haven’t written a poem in over 3 years. But the clashes that have been taking place in my hometown over the past few days have been enough to bring this letter out of me:

Darling Tripoli,

I’m sorry; I can’t save you, when you need me most.
You've been mine all my life, and I’ve shared your shores and waters,
Your walks and winters, and I’d share them all again…

But in the night they took you,
To piteous places where I’ve never taken you before
They blindfolded you and spoon-fed you lies you wouldn’t believe.
Break free, my love…

Look, these are the streets we shot photos of,
Light up with your smile

I’d rest my head on your shoulder and you’d watch me grow,
And teach me lessons on life and love and loss,

But I’m not prepared to lose you,
Not now, not to those thieves!

It’s Tri-poly, city for three:
Mine, Yours, and Ours
But not theirs… never theirs…

I will be your protector, your lover,
I will save you, with words,
With prayers and promises

In all your times, in all your faces,
I will win your heart again,

And you will come back to me, come back home…

-Nour S. Kabbara (May 17, 2012)