reflections on the child

i closed my eyes,

looked up to see the dot

that he said would become

the face of my childhood

i saw a bad haircut

and a happy child

whose face then turned to fear

of punishment

for things she did not understand

what is sin

what is wrong and

what is right

in the face of a god

in the face of a father

who has not learned

to be patient and love

himself?

 

 

ramblings

They were told that his love is great

It conquered, through death.

In that frame between public shaming

(Through death)

And then resurrection

Stop thinking and believe in him;

With faith

To be saved

They were told to become good

Maybe not

Like everyone.

 

It was said that it brought peace

If not peace, stillness

In that moment between drawing in

(Quiet)

And then breathing out

Stop thinking and fill your head-

With sensation-

To become peace,

They wanted to become still,

Always

Like everyone.

 

So they froze, an epoche

Frozen to themself

Between Adam and the atoms

(There surely were no sinners)

He died his final death

But In the horrorscape of newspapers.

Sin was in everyone

In need of a scapegoat when

The blues and hand forgot the workers

Evil has returned in saffron orange.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The social themepark circus

The girl walked in

Into a game in a tent

Much laughter in the tent

And many many faces

but the games have to be played

once you enter a tent

it’s an awfully funny show

you can giggle away my dear

but play you must

does he have to kiss her

yes, play he must

must I understand?

no you don’t

shall i move on then

to the next tent

Which one to go into next

A game of drinks

And lucky dips

Or a tent of grasping

at rods and grills

in loose hanging, open structures?

it’s an awfully confusing scene

must i walk into the tent?

with the girl

in pony tails and red socks

but her face is mine

yes, play she must

in the din of laughter

darling can you hold my hand

let’s go then to the next tent

To the next tent

under the weight of sleep

what place is this?

that play she must

the games are quick

they turn to dust

it’s an awfully ethereal sight

what is in the next tent?

who knows darling

let’s drink our wine

and dance

hold my hand

till you awake

maybe in the next tent

from the social themepark circus

 

 

 

 

reasons

sometimes

she spoke to me

in words and looks

her words carry

so many emotions

her eyes betray

a struggle

to feel alive

 

 

hope

because hope burns strongest
as ember
when the fire of rage and faith
is turned to ash
all that’s left
is to hope

The many

One day, my love,

your face and love

draws closer than all the others;

the next my love,

is for another.

some fears, my love,

you take away

in ways only you know.

others fears-

my other loves know what to do.

but you are big;

and so are they.

my heart grows as

i spend one night

one month

one year

in the cocoon of your love

and wrap you around mine

does it unfurl

when i spend a night

with my other loves

Does their love unfurl

when i come to you

or to the other loves?

Their hearts grow big

and so does mine

and so does yours

when many loves

bear life together.

we’re shared and share

and life grows fuller.

pimple

i’m that fucking pimple

everyone wants gone

been building up for 30 years

that thing that carries all your

unwanted and hidden processes

will you pop me?

will you let me go?

if you pop me wrong

i might just scar you

and poor you

you might have to scar

for another 100 years.

will you let me be?

to age and dry

and fade away?

well i might still

scar you even so.

you’ll feel me

and see me

i’m your pimple

staring at you in the mirror

and should you pop me

i might come back

on your nosetip.

a place to mourn

Where do we find the place to mourn

The boy who died when bullets found him

Crossing the streets of faceless wars

The young man who took his life

Walking the dead and holy places of thought

The young woman who dared

To walk the night

The young person that life was torn

In the hands of the many that raped her

Where is that place?

Our mourning spaces are filled

With the hounds of validation

Validate your suffering,

Validate your dalit

Status

Validate your innocent woman

Status

Validate your good student

Status

Validate validate validate

The pain lays buried under

The earth has hardened

The flower that bloomed

Crushed under the boots

The well of tears

Dry

Absorbed by file over file

Over file

Of paperwork.

Grief turned to endless

Jungles of bureaucratic

Validations.

Maybe when all is dust

And the terror

Inside, outside is gone

And all is lost

The wells will spring again

And the flowers bloom

We will find that place,

To mourn them then.

Silence

Some days her guts were threateningly bare-
not a syllable, not a sound,
wandering – she does her cooking and her cleaning
and not a voice inside her;
the threatening silence.
She dreams of children with far away fathers:
and mothers content without their men
and of a world with pipes and pans –
streching out their climbs
she watched as some fell satiated;
and others broke their backs.
Alone sometimes with dead men,
she scrapes the bottom of her guts
to find some words, some spring,
from her darkness,
from her deep,
from a world she never quite knows
and hope the words
bear away her silence.

Ha khmat ka iit, nga ieng, nga peit,

Ia ka jinglyngkhuid jong ngi,

kane ka met naei ka mih

balei ka kit ia ka jingisih jong phi

Ma phi, iaei phi tieng?

Ia la ka met?

ia ki ksuid ha ka tdem?

Ka jingieit kam pyntieng ia nga

Pynban ha u budlum jong nga nga sngew

har har ka beh ka jingisih jong phi.

sha ka jingieit ka tip mo ia ka rong?

ia ka jait, ne ka jaitbynriew?

ne ka niam?

ka met jong phi kaba la shah bam

ha u kruin ka jingtieng

ha u kruin ka jinglehrain

ha u kruin ka jingkhaweit

Wat bret ha nga ia kine

Wat bret ia ka jingisih jong phi

Ha ka dur jong ka ‘Jingieit jaidbynriew’.

Namar ngan iai kiew

bad ka jaidbynriew kan iai kiew

Da ka jingieit bad ka jiniatiplem.

Ha khmat ka iit, nga ieng nga peit,

Ia ka lawei jong ki met jong ngi.

Ngin iai iuh halor ka jingisih jong phi,

bad her da ka jingiatiplem.