An appointment on dinner a poem by M.T. Al-Mansouri, Ph.D.

[M.T. Al-Mansouri, Ph.D.]

An appointment on dinner

I sat down in the northern side of the restaurant to eat dinner while I kept a vivid thought of the predicament in the universe like a fairy reading from the cup of a Bedouin Arab in the desert leading his camels to an oasis forested with date palm trees and abundant water.

In the left corner of the restaurant are many customers who eat various kinds of foods, drinking beer and wine, and talking about the world's political affairs.

They talk about the affairs of the world as wars in the Middle East and Africa rage on, but punctuated by world sports in reassurance of achievable peaceful coexistence.

Then the confusions mixed and raised up reminders of the voices of the agonizing refugees from Iraq, Syria and Yemen. Moreover, in a requiem of many economic refugees from African countries fleeing to Libya with attempts to cross the Mediterranean Sea, many drowned are carried and buried at the shores of the Libyan coastal beaches. The rest are forgotten because their destinations are not well defined in the enigma of solving the quest for finding a greener pasture in Europe.

These scenes are repeated daily and nothing has changed until the day when the Middle East finds a resting place in the political world of corruption, support for terrorists, the Huthees by the Iranian super power of the Middle East. Where is America? Where is Europe? One thing that I know is that all the countries or continents I have mentioned are just mere spectators and they are enjoying the game from afar. Have the Bedouins known about the needs of their camels when desert winter comes along? Since the Bedouin care for their caravans, they do not care about international politics, geopolitics so to speak.