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Ted Rall

Poems from Gitmo

posted by TheDon
Last winter, I was in Cuba visting Fidel in the hospital in Jamaica catching some rays, and I was in my hotel negotiating with a hooker chatting up a local when a drinking companion slipped me a sheaf of papers. It was all in Arabic and the man told me it was very important to sneak it back into the US.
I snuck it back home, pulled it out of my ass and studied it. It appeared to be poems written by some of our guests in Guantanamo Bay. My Arabic is a little rusty, and there were some unfortunate stains on the documents, but I did the best translation I could. I would have kept my adventure secret, but now the US is going to publish a collection of the poems from Gitmo. I have decided to publish the poems I received, so I can’t be accused of making this up later, when the same poems appear in the book.

This one must have been from one of the children we snagged

Roses are red
Violets are blue
please stop torturing me
and I will tell you anything you want to hear
no, really, please stop
please please please

This one was from an older child

A Gitmo detainee named Ali
wanted a lawyer right now, by golly
he thought he had rights
but they beat him all night
he was hoping for justice – what a folly!

At least one of the prisoners must have been Japanese

Guantanamo Bay
devoid of law and justice
screams shatter the night

I am kept awake
and have been for seven days
please let me sleep now

One was apparently a fan of my favorite poet

I know why the caged Muslim screams

The free Muslim leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downtown till the busline ends
and works all day in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim his faith.

But a Muslim that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his head is immersed and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to scream.

The caged Muslim screams with a fearfull trill
of things made up but believed true still
and his tale is heard on the distant hill
for the caged Muslim screams of terror.

The free Muslim thinks of another day
of feeding his family and getting his pay
and the wife and children waiting to play
and he names his faith his own.

But a caged Muslim stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts in a nightmare scene
his head is immersed and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to scream.

The caged Muslim screams with a fearfull trill
of things made up but believed true still
and his tale is heard on the distant hill
for the caged Muslim screams of terror.

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