Israel


It is because I recognize the brutality with which my own multi-branched ancestors have been treated that I can identify the despicable, lawless, cruel, and sadistic behavior that has characterized Israel’s attempts to erase a people, the Palestinians, from their own land.
~ Alice Walker

75

In the beginning of the last autumn
i brought from a thousand black eyes
the prize of war, that is mercy

there is no lesson here, only
an alluring figure, death and migration
I watched the shelters get bombed
And I thought I’m too old a sculptor

to know how to sculpt dead
corpses of children, to see
how they lay motionless in

bright pools of blood
how can there be cease-fires
when civilians must beg for peace
while western masters give them arms

in the beginning of the end of frozen summer
from every woman I borrowed
a supple curve, not for pregnant wishes

but for tears of the world
i created you from the marble of my poem
but I could not contain your wasted lives
so long as men think they are superior

to other men, they will fight to the death
snubbing their own God with their cruelty
beware! The wrath of the earth

will not tolerate this forever, maybe for
a few more decades, but judgement
will it be allowed to echo in your quietness?
You who have taken the bodies

You who have committed the war-crimes
You whose mouth is cold with death?

global connectivity


32

it’s survival here, nothing new
lungs knotted by thirst
sunheat in our heart, starving to belong

it’s corrupt the way
the social feeds are telepathic
last chance for freedom
not likely, when water goes on the stock-markets

I’m pinned by this world
like as the love for my criminal child
the kind of wound that

is never quite urgent enough to heal
but sticks around like deformity
“heal the world”, there are too many
bodies you say to feed the planet

it’s survival down here, at the ends
stomach growling to be someone
heart’s pitter-patter against the gloom

our fragility was really contagious
the world learned how
to suffer together, it was a kind
of progress, to realize we all belonged

to the same economy, a doomed currency
where the sun was thrown, raised and lowered
for the number of years we had left

before some tipping point of our anarchy
until we have to depart, to say goodbye
we make do, with teaspoons and testimony
with words from vague saints who were cripples

we learned to see, a bit of ourselves
in everyone who suffered, in how they fought.

art courtesy of: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Global-Warming-86554791

City Without a Name of Winter


24

Watching the crowds in their dark jackets
I can tell that winter is on its way
There are no grey laurels left
We just wait for first snow
It will seem beautiful then, novel

As it traces our footsteps
In a frothy whiteness of magical grafts
Marrying concrete with the skies
You will have parts of the world
Unmelted by sunrise, just a snow-covered

Precipice of cold, we endure this
With a voluntary patrol of visible breath
Under my breast and belly I feel grateful
To have a woman at my fire
It’s the pulse of the earth I miss the most

In those harsh winter months
The smiles and small laughter of spring
It’s a city without a name that freezes
So many people more sad without the sun
I can tell that winter is on her way again

Like minerals that forget to sound their last trumpet
My blood will not freeze, I will walk on.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Winter-139159678

Thought


“There is no frigate like a book
to take us lands away” – Emily Dickinson
——————————————————-

94

There is no reverie like a book
No dream like a religion
To take us lands away
Prancing into the make-believe

There is no reverie like a world
Shared by only a few
That oppresses many, by select
Random and most inopportune

There is no right or wrong in inequality
Nature bears not a human soul
No good or evil in hierarchy
Only rules to play a meaningless game

There is no reverie but society
Social norms of the zeightgeist if you please
No dream like politics
To let a few outrank us by decree

Civilization is a long oppression
There is no falsehood like history
Art whose use is only temporary
Thus all of man is mostly make-believe

Though they pretend to be most important
How frugal is the chariot of the human soul
That takes so little from open life to barren life
Where does it go? What does she learn?

There is no reverie like an evolution
That cannot be seen, cannot be touched
No dream like a God
Who never shows a power, or a face.

Photo Courtesy: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Badass-London-Sundown-382329516