This is a challenging piece. We were called on to write from another’s perspective at Poetic Asides, so I chose to embrace empathy and try to envision how a young man might strap on the gear and become a suicide bomber – to see the part of him that truly believes he is a martyr, dying for his faith. Would appreciate comments, but please DO NOT see this as an endorsement for his cause; I am a pacifist, so this was hard to write. Amy
CALLING OF A YOUNG RADICAL
They started it with their MTV and harsh music
polluting the minds of our youth
Their unholy values, grasping for money and power
at the expense of the poor, the widows, the orphans
Insisting our precious resource, the
sand-sheltered oil under our land is theirs
Needed to run their large shiny cars and industries
I have been prepared at the madrassa
Made a video stating my reasons for doing this
Said my goodbyes and made a list
of beloved family and friends who,
because of my courage,
will be assured a place in heaven.
This is my destiny; I was chosen for this honor
by men who have taught me from childhood
all the important tenets of the Qur’an
How infidels must pay for
the evil they bring into this world
for murdering our mothers and children
for coveting what is not theirs to have
I follow the Prophet Muhammed (peace be upon him)
Because of my sacrifice and my courage,
my family will be provided for and proud of me
I am being strapped into my gear; then I will
head to the shopping mall
where revealing Western clothes are
polluting the values of our women
(Reema, how lovely she looks in hijab and modest linens)
and hip-hop music
(Reema, dancing dizzily with her sisters
to a nasheen by Dawud Wharnsby Ali)
I will see Reema again in Heaven
Surely she will die a virgin and wait on me there
popping figs into my mouth as I recline at her feet
I am a man and today I prove it
It is time. I enter the mall
Shoppers carrying bags
American soldiers patrolling the halls
And then I see her
Reema, gazing in a store window
I want to shout, to get her out of here
but as the words leave me mouth the ———-
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore
Sharp Little Pencil 
leesis
I love that you tried this Amy…and love the climax. I feel deeply for any person whose faith leads them to take such horrendous actions.
Sharp Little Pencil
Thank you, Lessa; it was truly one of the hardest poems I’ve ever written. Thought a lot about whether or not to post, but decided to forge ahead. And I share your feelings. You never see any of the old guys, the madrassa teachers, actually doing this stuff. They just indoctrinate the youth… and in that way, they share a trait of all warmongers.
Sherry Blue Sky
Wow, this must have been a stretch and good for you for making that leap and trying to understand. Really good writing, it kept me captive to the end, which was an unexpected surprise………well done.
Sharp Little Pencil
Sent you an email. Yes, this was a huge stretch… don’t know how I got through it, because it seriously constricted my gut. I wasn’t sure how it was going to end, so the movie had to play out in my head. Thanks, so much, Sherry. Peace, Amy
uponthewingsofnight
Upon reading this poem, I completely understand how hard it must have been to write this. There are a few poems that I have done that were quite difficult to do but nothing like this. Absolutely amazing stuff, Amy. Brett
Sharp Little Pencil
Brett, I truly appreciate this, since we actually know each other, have broken bread (or was it cracked open a cold one?!) together… Amy
uponthewingsofnight
I have only one poem that comes even remotely close to this one. It’s called Innocence Lost. It is posted on my blog. Brett
Sharp Little Pencil
I’ll look it up. Thanks! Amy