The Sirens’ Song to the U.N. Security Council
Monday, July 10, 2017
We reject unequivocally the label of terrorist. We are artists. Nothing more And nothing less. Oppressors often get the two confused. When the deathbringers came to the sea with harpoon, hook, stone-weighted nets we sang them songs of home. Lilting and familiar, comforting and safe, drawn from cradle memory, sung in a lover’s tongue. Ships make their own music as they splinter on desolate, deceitful shores; we danced to it gleefully knowing our beloveds were safe a day longer. The fish crawled from salt to sand and us? We the journey made. The wind pushes. The moon pulls. Waves and dunes are much the same. Here the deathbringers hunt the heavens with camera eyes and hellfire missles. We sing them songs of home. Lullabies and love songs have given way to Latitude and Longitude. We learn the tunes drones want to hear And with prayerful fingertips teach chirping birds to sing it where they go – deep in the desert, not far off course – pushing noise into signal, signal into noise, everywhere, everywhere until death, as she should, flies blind. Shores of rubble, waves of sand, the remnants of our homes; here we sing the loudest. With such brilliant, brutal confidence the deathbringers come buzzing headfirst into the ground. We dance upon their shattered corpses crushing evil eyes beneath our heels – every victory a tomorrow gained for our children for our loves. And now you’ve caught me. So what? I have a million sisters; we’re all made the same. I do not fear the silence. We will tear death down with song.
Cindy Potts is responsible for a staggering amount of the copy you find on your favorite small business website. In between times, she writes short stories, perpetually unfinished novels, and the very occasional poem. Find out more at cbpotts.livejournal.com or follow her voluminous, funny, profanity filled Twitter @cbpotts.