The 42nd Birthday of Oleg Sentsov | A poem by Tony Mochama, Secretary General of PEN Kenya
Credit: CC BY-SA 4.0
On 13 July 2018, prominent Ukrainian writer and filmmaker Oleg Sentsov spent his 42nd birthday behind bars. Oleg Sentsov is serving a 20-year prison sentence on spurious terrorism charges after a grossly unfair trial by a Russian military court, marred by allegations of torture. He has been on hunger strike since 14 May 2018 and is reportedly in a critical condition. Poet, writer and Secretary General of PEN Kenya, Tony Mochama, wrote the following poem for his birthday.
The very name says it all
Put in, put him in, put in
(the concrete face like prison walls, that expression of a sour pudding)
Put him in - a sorry sentence for Oleg
Sent him off, to Siberia, for twenty years.
Handcuff his heart, muzzle his spirit,
Shackle his legs (oh, leg of Oleg) . . .
Conquer this country that lies to our South
This nation of defiant uranium people
Let us open our mouths wide and drink of the Black Sea
(the Gulf of Karkinitsk, and the Sea of Azov)
and if the U.N. complains, we tell 'em to f*** off!
The Ice Head, once more, rears its serpent-head up north
Plans an invasion, plots an annexation
anus State of unending oppression o'er neighbouring sovereigns
Red soldiers, rolling tanks, galloping national ideology of gobbling
Still, this Great Ukraine will resist!
Let the acid rain fall, let them bring on the pain
but do NOT let their flags fly over Donetsk.
Tsk! tsk! do not let the Gremlin in the Kremlin
set this Motherland, a 'tremblin'
Raise the banner of battle cry from the capital of Kyiv
do not let the gas lorries cross into Lugansk
or fear the men in balaclavas now clustered in Balaklava
Let the artists and dramatists write 'resistance' in Dnepropetrovsk
and one love, for the Ukraine, from Nairobi to Lvov.
(why can't the blood shedding dwarf just Leave and Let Lviv)?
The road to hell is paved with the bodies/spirit of political prisoners
from the blue seashore of the Crimea to the desolate snows in Siberia
Littered by the filth of the crimes of The Bear
seated, there, within its Moscow Lair
waiting to pounce (with 'Georgia' on its mind)
play the Trump Card, and dance with Fancy Bear.
Here, Litvinenko, choke on your vodka
Turn green to nasda rovya, laced with Novochik (what cheek!)
TCheck out the new Cheka in town, an Okhrana FSB.
On the 42nd birthday of Oleg Sentov
sent off from the Crimea (by a kangaroo court) to Siberia
On this Friday the 13th of chilly July
where an empty chair (with a white coat) sits in the middle of a room
in the Embassy of Ukraine, representing you, Comrade Oleg
I wonder if, you too, consider 13 a lucky number like your predecessor,
(Mykola Khvylovy) - but we, the world, will get you OUT of there.
PEN, and the World, will not forget the agony of political prisoners
all those fighting for the freedom of this great motherland, Ukraine
Not until the light of total freedom shines once more
From the metropol of Melitopol to the tiny town of Lutsk
(oh, Ohla, Arustamain and Kalinchuk!)
And this white coat, sitting in gloom, in the middle of this room
Begins to protest its doom, and starts shouting:
Where is the head that fits above my neck?
Where is my torso, my hands, my legs?
Oh, where is OLEG??
And the whole world - from Cape Town to Norway - demand the RTS - 'Return, Too, Sentov.'