Published January 15th, 2025
Eleventh Transmission Poetry Contest #1 – First Place
by Leila Abbas
Hands sticky with rumman juice,
Like the goo of a newborn daughter,
Eyes not agaze, piercing with inherited
Actions, not intent.
I could never wait to strike.
Mother.
I will peel open my ovaries and
Reveal 10 omens of Baghdad.
The revolutionists and officials
Oppress the same – you taught me that.
My eyes not blurry with tears,
For once, It's your rooted vision.
American-built glasses never saved
Newborn you the reign of the
American knights, not nights.
You immigrated to Canada, Mama!
Asylum papers stung as you
Slept through a war-less night.
You told me it was the first day
You felt safe in the disgruntled
Torn gooey piercing body,
Of a 12-year-old girl.
I savour concocted drops of
Rumman
That bleeds the same hue
Of my mother's birthed daughters
Goo.
My hands are still sticky with rumman juice.
Author note: Rumman is Arabic for pomegranate.
About the Poet
Leila Abbas resides in Al Rayyan, Doha, Qatar.
Read the poet's biography on Leila Abbas's Artist Page.
This poem is included in Poetry World #11,
published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in Eleventh Transmission:
The New Way
by Gary Beck
Eleventh Transmission is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
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