Democracy

Along the way to Washington, a red Indian is still holding in his hands his scalp and a quiver filled with stock exchange, while not comprehending why European prisoners carried old Athens on the ship of Columbus and settled at the shadow of a Liberty Statue; all that to announce that they’ve put the last full-stop at the end of the last line.

Meanwhile, Plato’s Republic falls down from his book’s roof, when equilibrium, between cleverness and stupidity, quivers and masses eat the city’s stones, one by one. Al-Farabi, Plato’s follower, asks for an asylum when his own city collapses over his turban. But cowboys, riding between two oceans, prefer to jail Karl Marx on the ground that he sexually had harassed a fat safe, and choose to plant their lands with Islamophobia, Orientophobia and Hispanophobia.

Thus, the red Indigenous will eventually reach the capital city, and probably succeeds to sell his scalp to a lady that happens to be the grand-daughter of prisoner who had been released, at that century, from a dungeon in old Europe and swallowed the sea in his way. Plato, on the other hand, might succeed to sell his book, so that it could be used to flame a fire circle inside a rusted barrel standing at the nights of the homeless, while Al-Farabi might get a visa to enter into a shelter under a tunnel in Harlem quarter which is illuminated by blackness.

But, for certain, while two buffalo mutually butt to stand on the uppermost step of Mount Olympus, while the horny one beats the other, Plato and his friend will not find a footing in squares dedicated to the end of history. So, they necessarily will be forced to stride forward towards the very beginning.
____________
Al-Farabi, an Islamic philosopher, the writer of “The Virtuous City”.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (3 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Fareed K. Ghanem

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I am 58 years old, from eastern Galilee, Israel (Palestine). I studied English literature, psychology and Law at the Hebrew university (Jerusalem). In the last three years, I published three books of which is dedicated to prose poetry. You are invited to visit the Facebook page Shadows of Water, where I publish my prose poems I translate to English.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

The Democracy

The Democracy short poem

With stoicism writ on face I invite the chisels for giving birth to a dialogue between me and the shaper. Where did the things go wrong in making the life a simple page to write a beautiful poem? Buddha give

True Freedom True Democracy

True Freedom True Democracy prose poem

After many years of slavery we still end up being enslaved today After many years of exploitation We are still being exploited till today Oh! brother is revolution time is time to live in a real world stand up and

Democracy

Democracy short poem

To slice a hope in stark terror he thought to bid holy goodbye to destiny, and let himself go in the shadow of weeping deads. The orange moon looked mutilated. Quietly stood a suicide bomber, ready to get killed for