My Red Father, poems by Nasrin Parvaz

Wednesday, 23 August 2017

You and me

My hands tied, I had been hanging
from the ceiling for Eternity
my dangling feet just above the floor
night finally came and the guards left.

Bloodied and bruised, but not tied up
you crawled towards me
and lay down, beneath me
taking the weight of my body on yours
my feet rested on you all that long night.

Where are you now?
Are you alive somewhere?



My Red Father

It was the day
after my fifth birthday
mummy went out to the shops
and daddy started telling me a story.

There was a hard knock
on the front door
daddy went to open it
I heard rapid bangs and a big thump.

I ran to daddy
he was in a red heap by the door
a man stood over him with a gun
I think he looked at me
and walked away
into the weekend afternoon.



Your watch

They gave us back
your clothes, your
final letter and your watch.
It showed
the time they took you
to be shot
ten past nine, September 10th, 1988.

So we can never forget
even if we wanted to
which we don’t.

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