I Thought the Name of the Movie was ‘American Piper.’
by Steven McCabe
I thought the name of the movie was ‘American Piper.’
Standing beside me in line was Enheduanna, Daughter of King Sargon:
A Princess, Poet, and Priestess from 4400 years ago.
With a serpent coiled around her arm and holding a clay tablet
Inscribed & encoded with cuneiform script.
As tall as me and bathed in moonlight.
I said ‘What are you doing here?’
She said, ‘I’m not here for the entertainment.’
We were suddenly engulfed in a sandstorm.
Vast, rolling hill-clouds of sand, engorged with heat, arose enclosing muffled sounds.
A harsh wind blew into my eyes.
I tried to grip her hand as she vanished and knew instinctively this was a mistake.
My finger grazed her palm and the cut I received refuses to heal.
I wake to find it encompassed within rings of moonlight. I wish I could say it was only a haze.
I never did see the movie and from what I hear the screen was half-buried.
Like a drive-in theatre in a snowstorm that stops all life from moving.
Snow falling as white as moonlight.
Melting and rushing water in the spring overflowing the oceans.
Banishment from Ur
You asked me to enter the holy cloister,
and I went inside, I the high priestess
I carried the ritual basket and sang
Now I am banished among the lepers.
Even I cannot live with you.
Shadows approach the light of day, the light
Is darkened around me,
Shadows approach the daylight,
Covering the day with sandstorm.
My soft mouth of honey is suddenly confused.
My beautiful face is dust.
Information and images concerning Enheduanna: http://www.transoxiana.org/0108/roberts-enheduanna.html
Pied Piper (Public Domain) image source: Ginn and Company The Common School Catalogue (Boston, MA: Ginn & Company Publishers, 1906)
Russian Orthodox Icon painted on wood: Artist unattributed (found on internet). The idea of using this image was inspired by the long history of Eastern Rites Churches in lands comprising modern day Iraq. A protective mother with her sacred child.
I do not claim ownership or copyright of the original images used as source material to digitally create new works of my own design for non-commercial purposes of commentary under Fair Use provisions of the copyright law.
Like the satire in ancient, Irish poetry this ‘whimsy’ I have concocted may express a darker indictment.