A CLOSURE FOR DEAD ROOTS

A CLOSURE FOR DEAD ROOTS

He is dead

A voice told me

as I opened my eyes

this morning

Worried

that days like today

won’t help my psoriasis

So thank God

for these beautiful

little humans

I’ m entrusted with caring for

For porridge with honey and walnuts

and 8:55AM School run

in Hackney

Bye, dad

Bye, kids. Be good, I love you

They are ready in The Hague

I cannot face it

forcing myself to go for a walk

He’s not dead

I keep telling myself

Everything he slaughtered for

is very much alive and

eager to embrace him yet again

Until sick myth

transforms into a

glowing chapter

of butchered history books

Therefore

Continuing

Misery

Indefinitely

From a clear-cut psychopath

to a saint

in just a few generations

Grand scale delusions of

schizophrenic nations

I remember where I was

on the day

Ratko Mladic was arrested

Walking slowly the streets of Malmo

With my cancer ridden mother

18 years after we left Banja Luka

forever

Her phone rang

and friend asked for 'mustuluk'

They caught the bastard

Perhaps

there was a spark of

long forgotten justice

in her tired, drugged eyes

I felt for a moment

as if our tragedy isn’t a

foregone conclusion

just yet

He’s not dead.

I don’t need a voice to tell me that

But my parents are.

Buried on the opposite sides

of the World

Equally far away from their birthplace

Both equally

ethnically cleansed

Neither receiving a closure

You’re dead too!

The voice comes back

You’ve been dead for 25 years

And everyone of similar curse

Scattered across the Earth

Had been dead

all this time.

Your roots have been pulled out

Your steps

Your love

Your misery

Your name

had been erased

from collectively

fictionalised past

I escaped into a familiarity

of Supermarket shelves

Could stock up on katsu curry

Get some fruit

and milk

Christmas selections already on display

Mmmm... tempura king prawns

Twelve for two quid

Whole family embraced

Japanese food this year,

We really did

Oooh...pomegranate juice

Two for two.

Better get that too.

By the time I got home

Ratko Mladic have been sentenced

To a life in prison

For a number of crimes

Which

As judge said

“rank among most heinous

known to humankind

and  include

Genocide

and  

Extermination”

He exited the courtroom

in true Serbian hero fashion;

Shouting obscenities over conspiracies

Threatening the judge

With a raised left hand

I’ve read somewhere

Those who gesticulate

with their left hand

as they speak

Don’t really believe in

what they’re saying

I make some coffee

I roll it up

(larger than usual)

I take my “Ten New Songs”

Leonard Cohen vinyl out

It is hard for me to imagine

a lyrically more accomplished

Album

I open my windows wide

allowing the wisdom

of True Master

To breeze through the neighbourhood

He is dead.

But Leonard isn’t.

Ratko Mladic is dead.

And those who will

Lament

General’s fate today

are also dead

and have been

for past twenty five years

And I am

Scarred and

Shattered and

Bruised and

Battered and

Very much

Alive