MDMH89

What Makes A Cold Heart Beat?

A reflection on Saddam Hussein's reaction to his death sentence.



That thump,

I felt it

in his eyes;

a man rendered,

not of power,

but fearful

of death.



That thump

was the beat

of the drum

that plays off

the ratta-tat-tat

of the rifles

from the firing

squad.



That thump

was the tear

that met the

ground more

intense than

the bombs that

meet it now.



That thump

was the man

that defecates

and urinates

himself, full

of shame as

bullet meets

heart, body

greets warm

desert floor.



That thump

was the rape

of a mother

from a man

that didn't fit

but still tore

his way in

despite the screams

of her

or her family.



That thump

was the rifle

butt meeting

the face of a

child lodging his

little nose into

his little brain.



That thump

was the door

being bashed

in filling

cups from dinner

with blood what

were once filled

with water.



That thump

was every limb

that was torn

from a fathers body

being drawn and

quartered by

jeeps as a

spectacle.



That thump

was the

7.62mm round

born from an

angry AK-47

that caved the

blind-folded mans

face in, forced

to die on

his back.



That thump

was the knee

of a mother

hitting the ground

as she watches

her baby girl

disappear beneath

the tires, lost

in the tracks

and pool of

red crushed

bone.



That thump

was the newly

made carcass

by a bomb

buried beneath

the dirt a traitor

was force to

sit on.



That thump

was the table

when it turned

when that gavel

met wood to

finalize a

much needed

decision.



That thump

was his heart

when it dropped.



That thump

was his brain

when it stopped.



That thump

was his eyes.

They didn't

dilate or

dramatically change

on the surface.

They clicked.



That thump

when he realized

he was damned

to die and

hang high,

hang dry.



That thump

was him watching

himself, in his

mind, fall with

the crack

his neck.

Spineless

he writhes and

wobbles a bit

before he

fades away.



That thump

was the stray

beat of

an inhuman

fallen leaders heart

who thought

he was beyond

such things.



That thump

was the

round of applause

and cheer

for revenge.



That thump

was humanization

in fear

in a man

that took so

much.



That thump

was the little

he could give

back.

Just so they

can take it

away.



Revenge.



That thump.

erikestabrook

lovely poem I must say seems a bit long,
really though it was a loovely poem in all its reality,
it was sick, cruel, as is saddam hussein so great poem for him,
you made quite a poem, welcome here to JPIC

PaintedDiary

Yes Welcome to JPiC. Please introduce yourself via the "Members Introduction Thread", so that we can officially welcome you, JPiC style!!! Thanks!

Painted