Awaiting Response by Harry Wilson

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.