Poem #1279: They Can Only Imagine

“I imagine in Syria, there are rainbows.” — Ahmed
has learned everything he knows about
Syria from his grandmother.
Almost 2.7 million Syrian refugee children
have grown up outside their country. — UNHCR

They can only imagine

And reignite the imagined

With colored pencils

And desks as their easels

They can only imagine

What home used to be

And tell gutted stories

With a child's crayon

Simple yet vivid imagery

Like painted sad songs

Ballads in graffiti

They can only imagine

Places of exotic beauty

From folktales

Woven by granny

Of epic power fails

And from memory unseen

They create tomorrow redeemed

They can only imagine

A heavy burden

All of a sudden

Shoved on their shoulder

A baton tossed over

How they bear it further

Is yet to be seen

We can only imagine.

Akpan

Kayak Khalifa

Khalifa is a Syrian refugee who participated in the Tokyo
 Olympics🗼as a member of the Refugee Paralympic Team (RPT).
Photo Courtesy: UNHCR

Taking risks gave me hope

When the only hope I had

Was the shadow of a home

Blown from hell to breakfast

Hope that cut a path

Thru troubled ravine waters

And washed up to me

In the form of a light narrow

Boat that took me out kayaking

On turbulent waters to tomorrow

I used to be the King of sorrow

I begged, stole and I borrowed

Every squeeze of hope

I could scrounge from the barrow

Here I am

A self-made man

Cutting legacies

Into the skin of canyons

Building concrete dreams

On waters with my new companion

Painting bouquets with the crayon

Of my paddle like the staff of Aaron

I'm charting a path

Over troubled waters

With my kayak

And it's all that matters

This is where I wanna be

I am a free spirit

Wheeling the forces of nature

Like ancient Inuits

Making live sculptures

With every stroke

An emphasis of hope

That echoes my heartbeat

A thumping will to live

Taking risks

Brought me hope

When all my chances

Were nothing but zero.

Akpan

Starless Midnight

Maya, Syrian child refugee.
More than half of forcibly displaced persons are children
 15 years old and under. — unhcr.org

Bound to a starless midnight

They wish for just one night

If only to breathe a desperate sigh,

Searching for hope in a forlorn sky

A darker cloud as sign

That things could have been worse,

A cold-fate-endorsed

Scenario to commensurate their loss.

Acquainted with sorrow

Their streams of tears convey tomorrow,

Born in exile

Like Moses riding the Nile

A habitat for crocodiles,

Or forcibly displaced

But anywhichways 

They're helpless preys.

Tragedies don't acknowledge kids

And kids ain't built

To ride the storms of conflicts.

They are victims,

Weak and vulnerable like sucklings

In the vortex of an ill wind,

Who've been thrown headlong

Into a dehumanizing war

Of which nobody asked their opinion,

Nor received their permission.

What does the future hold

If tomorrow is stripped to the bone?

Akpan

Aya

Aya, a Syrian refugee painter who is
challenging girls everywhere to take
their place on the global stage.
Courtesy: UNHCR

Beauty

Is in the hand of the painter

Brushing masterful cuties,

Changing the world canvas by canvas

A stroke of faith here

A dash of hope there.

Mixing a collage of variety

Creating a work of ingenuity,

Aya has set the tone,

She's hyped the velocity

She found her zone.

She's painting her voice

Into scenes, on easels, to give

Girls everywhere a choice.

A reason to live,

To not only survive

But to thrive

With the audacity of style.

This refugee called Aya

In the final analysis, is on fire

She holds the power of the sun

On the tip of her fingers.

Her brushes heal the world

The aura of her influence lingers.

She summons her sisters

To rise up a mighty army

Of female resisters

And punch down the glass ceiling.

Akpan

Strange Odyssey

Your donation today can help so many people who were already
suffering before COVID-19 and who need us now more than ever.
Click the image to donate.
Courtesy: United Nations Development Programme

Let me hold your hand

It'll be all I need to stand

I'm not one to make demands

Still I'll go with you to strange lands. 

Akpan 

The Syrian

Ain't his motherland yet he's bopping
Talk 'bout an ant walking an elephant
Like a soulful tune Germany's port's humming
Once a refugee now a hero of the land
The Syrian certainly got something to prove.

Akpan

Smiling Maya

She always wears a smile
Like she knows everyone counts
She thrives in the land of exile
Maya will never wear a frown.

Akpan

Destruction Makes Power

For want of threads of dialogue

A city heads down to the morgue,

And there the ill-fated bullock

Got its horns wrapped around a deadlock.

Out of hatred

Destruction makes power,

Life once sacred

Is spat out like dry powder,

Things gone to a head

Now fall down dead.

Syria

She is by horror haunted,

Rhymes with myriad

As a bomb-tide erases the wasted

Until those 40% bleed or sleep.

The darkness is complete.

Akpan

The Long Hike

Courtesy: UNHCR (@refugees)/Ivor Prickett
This poem was originally written for the refugee woman who trekked long
distance to be with her man. I couldn't find her picture online so I used this one instead. 😄

My traveling shoes fit me fine.

My feet are kitted like an Olympic athlete’s

I’m all equipped to eat up the miles

No fuss about distance nuthin’ can stop me.

I can only pray my feet don’t fail me now

The cloud’s moving its bowels by the sound

But I’m all covered by passion blind to distraction.

Taking it all in my stride screaming bring it on!

Will I survive will I rise or multiply the lies?

How do I flee slow virus that trusses my mind?

Love, with open arms, waits on the other side of here

His whisper is a special delivery of love to my ears;

The memory of his face is a balm for my blistered feet,

The longing for his embrace is a shade from the heat.

I must go where love goes lovingly mark his footsteps.

Find solace in the warmness of his footprints before

The chill of the nighttime tones it down with its breath.

I’m gon’ keep on pushing until I get what I want

Even tho the road is rough I will not turn away.

If I have to crawl on bended knees I won’t hesitate.

Akpan