mechanistdreams-deactivated2013

poemsfallfrommycursedlips:

The names are placeholders for now,  representing the quality of the characters.

Jasim: Protector (The Body, play on words, al-jism is the body in Arabic). Embroiled in a desire for action
Aqueel: Wise (The Intellect). The theorist of the trio.
Rohan: the Spirit. His words cut to the heart of the meaning.
Ilyas: Coptic comrade of the three main characters. 
Protestor/Heckler: the cynic, abrasive

Act I

A group of Protestors is gathered in Cairo. They have taken shelter underway highway overpass. The crowd murmurs to each other. As they begin chatter one voice calls for their attention.

Ilyas:

My fellows, we must have quiet,
we must have order!

Protestor/Heckler:

Your words are those of the state!
perhaps I have misjudged you all this time,
Officer Ilyas!

Ilyas:

Then it must be a self-imposed order.
Mubarak’s lackeys would have us slaver
over a handful of breadcrumbs
while they gorge on opulent feasts.
That’s their idea of order
but it isn’t ours, my friends.
We must have inner discipline,
for then we can be free from the cudgel
and the burning cancer of hunger.

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