Orphans of Asia


May 22, 2013

The orphan of Asia is crying in the wind
She is this young, not old any more
Lost with the new age at her heels
Nobody cares to play fair with her
She must find her own literacy
In games of power and pitfalls of fortune
Create her own ideology of feminism
Dreaming of bananas, pineapples and freedom
Dancing in the street, a new order of consciousness
She is a kingdom of honey-sweet sugar
A pragmatism of following ancient ingenuity
The orphan of Asia is a sleek mistress of the west
Parody of the Earth, song-mother of empires
Out of Africa, home of the first-settlers
How large is your opportunity
Why else would you be smiling? India? China?
The orphan of Asia has Japanese wings
Singaporean inclinations, Taiwanese wise-sayings
The orphan of Asia practices many religions, and none
She does not sleep in her mother’s arms
Everybody tries to take her favorite toys
Lips of forgotten genius, voice of new originality
Pakistan, Malaysian, Indonesia
The orphan of Asia is crying in the wind
Still remaining muddled, trapped, a lost kitten
Under the weight of a terrifying World Government
In place before the outer signs are seen
Your air still sneezes intellectual adolescence
Your spirituality has been banished by your politicians
Your soil still stinks of colonial dictators
Your education still forces you to betray yourselves
What nationalistic statements can save you from yourself?