Im in love with a revolutionary,
Id been struggling for weeks
to put into words
the Arab spring
and then, she began to blossom.
When Havana smouldered with the smoke
of more than just cigars,
As bullets laid on the ground
next to small arms
monuments of a successful rebellion,
All references to Che Guevara
were shut out of my mind,
As she spoke about her revolution.
Sun rising from peaks to the east
its rays embracing,
Delicate sand plains of the Sahara
marble and granite master pieces
hundreds of feet tall
renowned around the world
every monument to pharaoh’s achievement,
summarised at a glimpse,
Of her perfectly hazelnut eyes.
A Better liberator of her people than Moses,
the interviews were inspirational
account of lead penetrating
her perfectly tanned skin
leaving fragments of war in her spine
sent surges down mine,
Constructed a lump in my throat hearing
desperation in her mother’s voice
begging her to come home
and agony in her’s
Being forced to say no.
Every aspect of her transcendent beauty
screamed out all revolutionary desire within me,
Revolt and reform took form in flesh and blood
Bound within a goddess.
She had a voice, stood tall, exactly how I imagined
spread hope so thick, disbelievers would drown in it
re- gave freedom a beautiful face, achieved victory
over violence and death
All with vigour and grace.
She is the definition of a beautiful revolution,
She will forever be inspirational to me,
And her name is Gigi Ibrahim.