Three Poems From Iraq

By Michael J Grayer

Unholy Babylon
‘How many miles to Babylon?’
The Ancient-travelled road, well worn.
Wind blows poisoned dust; unseen,
No taste, nor smell, it clings upon,
The final victim, not yet born.
War without end? Obscene!

‘Our Glorious Dead’
Iraq 11 November 2000
The silent cry
From jars
Of birth deformities
Is Deafening
Piled upward, high
A Monument to ‘Western lies’

‘Steadfast Basrah’
A memorial for the dead,
Whose epitaph read:
Depleted –
But Undefeated