Airport Circle Kabul

beggar kabul

Viewing the world through Inch thick glass,
the traffic chokes to a halt.
A veiled shadow holds a face to the window.

Its gaze encrusted with disappointment
eyes as pale as a moonlit desert,
We stare at each other from our different worlds

I silently mouth sorry
whilst thumbing my passports pages,
The Child Spirit sees me whole.

Frozen for the longest moment
in a humming steel cocoon,
I watch the wagons circle, vulturesque.

A hand-print is smeared on the window
I touch it before walking to the terminal,
less than the span of my palm or the fold of a Dollar bill.

Ascending through dust and cloud I curse the City,
Roads spinning out from the Circle below, the people are no longer real.
The Dubai lounge is first class cool just my Duty free and me.

© Wolfgar 2019

4 thoughts on “Airport Circle Kabul

  1. It is sad that two very distinct and distant worlds can be separated by a mere inch of glass. And that to me is the heart of this poem, this touch, human to human, is prevented by manufacture and not by any disdain or callousness. Thanks for this, David. D


    • Thanks Devon. Your comment made me think specifically of how when there are constructed barriers placed between people they often pursue different ways of breaking through them. This poem was written from the very real perspective of veiwing the world from behind armoured glass (in this case through an armoured vehicle’s window) It seems to me that the construction of the divide can itself be a statement of intent and attitude. When you sit in an armoured vehicle you immediately realise that the world outside is perceived to be hostile, the impact of that perception can hugely influence an individuals behaviour and understanding of the exterior world. Someone not familiar with the environment beyond the barrier might perceive the entire landscape to be hostile, it doesn’t offer much possibility of a connection being made. Considering that, what might be the perception of those on the alternate side of the seems likely they might interpret the barrier to be a shield for something with hostile intention or at the very least to be something unwelcome in their landscape. Indeed the very idea/concept of posture when working in a hostile environment is a consideration those who do so reveiw almost daily. We would often travel in soft skin vehicles in an attempt to lower our profile and appear less hostile..we would alternate or conceal our weapon systems to appear less of a threat to those sharing our environment. It was a fact that when we lowered our profile we attracted much less attention (even though our presence was known) we regularly did this and noted that entities which moved around environments in a more aggressive manner would more frequently become targets and sustain more casualties than we would (we effectively on occasion used them as shields and distractions). I know that may seem a little off subject in regard to this poem, but it really isn’t at all…to initiate any type of meaningful contact the first thing that needs to occur is the dismantling of barriers. Hostility taught me almost everything uselful I need to know today…trouble is no-one listens to old grunts much these days.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Well, some of us listen to old grunts, as old grunts have a perspective on things that few of us share. And I agree that the dismantling of barriers is key to meaningful contact, and those barriers are not always physical. But all are constructs meant specifically to separate and create “the other”. But you know all this, of course. It is important that you keep going with this poetry, because it inspires me and others to go beyond the self and take on the very real humanity that oftentimes we’d rather hide from. D


    • Says everything it needs to say about communication on a deep level, without the resources of normality, which we mostly take for granted from our footholds of separation. Gut wrenching honesty and compassion go hand in hand. Fantastic writing.

      Liked by 1 person

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