Home Thoughts from an Internment Camp

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Today’s poem (another kenning) is not intended to be particularly political, but in the sense that many of us have to live with what can be the very punishing effects imposed by any errors of judgement we may have made in the past, for whatever reason/s.

Now, much is being made of the UK Supreme Court’s decision to revoke Shamima Begum’s citizenship and not allow her to return home. Some see it as an abuse of Human Rights. Personally, I think she abused those by going to Syria in the first place. Yes, she was only fifteen years-old, and possibly ‘groomed’ along with two other schoolgirls who accompanied her. Even a 15-year-old, though, knows the difference between right and wrong, and it was a deliberate choice on all their parts to associate with ISIS.

I do have a lot of sympathy for the woman, but to allow her back into the UK or anywhere in mainland Europe, would present a threat not only to herself but to others. She has terrorist contacts whom she may well now disown, but they will be keeping an eagle eye on her case; should she ever be allowed to return to mainstream western society, it is more than likely that they will attempt to enlist her for terrorist offences. What say will that society have in a matter that could well work savagely and ruthlessly against it?  Is it within the remit of any Court of Human Rights to rule that any society needs must take such a risk for the sake of any individual? I, personally, think not.

Some readers may well think I am being harsh, but the woman has kept company with those who are responsible for the murder of innocent people to the extent that she deserves a life sentence. 

Sadly, hindsight often is a life sentence.

We can regret our mistakes, repent any wrongdoings, even be forgiven by those we have wronged, but our past will always haunt our present and any future we are able to make for ourselves. I dare say most captives under guard in any internment camp dream of what-might-have-been if….

Not without good reason is ‘if’ often described as the longest word in the dictionary.

HOME THOUGHTS FROM AN INTERNMENT CAMP

I can make excuses,
even make a case to be forgiven,
yet what I have done
cannot be forgotten, leaves stains
on my personal history,
permanent scars on the lives of others,
among them,
husbands and wives, fathers and mothers,
sisters and brothers 

What is done is done,
can neither be undone nor repaired
(even in part)
for all I may dearly wish, even try
to make amends
for having instructed mind-body-spirit
to reason not the need,
but obey the dictates of such righteousness,
as seeks no forgiveness 

I was blind and now I see,
was misled by the passion of my youth
for adventure
to side with whom I saw as fighting
a good fight
for the right to have their political aims
taken on board
by a world refusing to listen, thereby deserving
retaliatory destruction 

I am Hindsight, whose punishment fits my crimes,
regret alone, no master key to kinder times 

Copyright R.N. Taber 2021