At the Baghdad Bazaar

It’s all hustle bustle at the Baghdad bazaar;

The scent of cardamom wafts through the air.

Sounds of a ney and a western guitar

Compete with the noises of the crowds everywhere.

Ali and Noora hide from their friends

While their parents buy meat and rice and rose water;

Asad watches Fatima with a smile as she spends

Her yearly savings on their two-year-old daughter.

Jürgen drinks coffee with friends from L. A.

Karen is visiting him from Vienna;

A reporter waits patiently for his daughter to say

That they’ve finally finished applying her henna.

It’s a typical day at the Baghdad bazaar

With haggling, chatting, playing, and laughter.

But nobody notices the abandoned car--

Everything’s going to change soon hereafter.

A blinding flash with a thunderous boom--

From someone with hateful, murderous aplomb--

Destroys many lives and brings tears and gloom:

All from a heinous terrorist’s bomb.

Their world is suddenly turned upside down

And everything around them moves in slow motion.

The music and laughter that once filled downtown

Now have become a vague, distant notion.

Ali remembers hearing a thud;

It's Noora; he finds her smashed against a door.

Fatima lies in her own pool of blood;

Her daughter will see her mother no more.

Jürgen lies legless, gasping for air

While Karen screams, cursing the slaughter.

The blinded reporter touches some hair:

He knows it belongs to lifeless young daughter.

Fires and sirens and shrieking and tears—

How will the survivors ever get past this?

Imagine their nightmares, their losses, their fears!

What kind of hope will help them outlast this?

A blinding flash with a thunderous boom--

From someone with hateful, murderous aplomb--

Destroys many lives and brings tears and gloom:

All from a heinous terrorist’s bomb.

A typical day at a Baghdad bazaar?

That’s what it’s becoming, I’m fearful to say.

When people give in to their vengeance, they are

Feeding their hatred and causing dismay.

Who are these haters, who thrive on killing

Innocent people who’ve done them no harm?

How do they recruit poor souls who are willing?

What brainwashing methods do they use as their charm?

How can they justify twisting religion

To satisfy violent and malicious ideals?

Can these misguided ones not care a smidgeon

About what each odious action reveals?

These are the ones who hate and hate well—

Sad, very sad, that they don’t understand

That love and compassionate actions would quell

Their anger before it got out of hand.

A blinding flash with a thunderous boom--

From someone with hateful, murderous aplomb--

Destroys many lives and brings tears and gloom:

All from a heinous terrorist’s bomb.

(3-24-14) By Bob B