and shielded by darkness,
he hesitates—whenever i ask him
to bring our love to light.
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Noon
On a road less traveled the patrol tracked down much:Him (him is now an it, a crumpled cruel corpse for womenTo beat their breasts about): the wreckage (four black wheelsThat speak of despair and a mangled red car-body awash yetSoiled and the cold apparitions of smoked glass and steel):The crime record—He stole at home he…
You are sad and you start out sluggishly,
To dress up in gold and Valentino gowns.You are playing Patience to pass the timeAnd you believe every feud has to die outWhen the fighters die. You wait for that.You later learn it does not work this way.Sitting still in a songless court, you watchBacklogs and bribes and middlemen grow.You are unfazed by all the…
You are possessed.
that cause your illness. But, driving out devilscan be challenging. Spirits are given away—We are made to sit opposite you,Force-fed a ‘meal’—bland food mixedwith your hair, nails, spit and pus.Illegally (despite the government ban) ,We take your hoard of evil spiritsBarter-system: for having ate your food.And because ghosts and ghoulsobey your rules, they leave you…
My school bud, he work hard.
He grow dam rich.He go to da temple, wherehis po’ ol’ folks ain’t allowed.He buy incense for two bucksflowers for five, kinda shaggycoconut for ten bucks.He also buy a standing placeat da front and da special prayerin his name all at twenty more.Priest with ash and holy smokecome to him, give extra blesses fora cool…
In an arid land of arid human minds
He, disease wrecked, downtrodden,long-ago skinner of animals, sets out.Ten days of Typhoid, and a partial recovery.Enough reason to thank some God.He drags himself clumsily to a nearby temple.Sadly, of an Upper-caste God.Away from the temple, he bends in supplication.Says his last prayer—Unwelcome Gratefulness.To a God who (anyway) didn’t help him recover.Innocent Acts of Undulating Faith…
‘a poem should be wordless
—Archibald Macleish, Ars Poetica.birds don’t sing in their flightfor them flying is a musethey compose mid-airweave agnostic versesneering haughtily at our absurdityas they float over our meaningless mosques and churchesand those patrolled international bordersand other disputed siteswhere the guns go bang bang bang all the timethey swing over there losing their birdegos(ego is difficult to…