poetry

When we’re young, we think we are the only species worth knowing. But the more I come to know people, the better I like ravens.
― Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum

It’s all made up, but still
we want to know what happened
when a Spitfire crashed into the doctor’s house
just as the butcher’s wife was giving birth
while the wife of the obnoxious writer
was desperately trying to contact
her departing Czech lover
and the deserter who was found in the church
was facing the Wing Commander
who had just married the teacher who once
preferred women and, oh my God,
there was more to be resolved
when the screen went dark
leaving us to speculate on who survived, who

I put the overhaul in too
and these scattered bits
you called memory’s jar
off the shelf
off the cuff
a lot of words
cut like cloth
they ought only
lie still enough
to not knock us out
from under ourselves
in a single moment
your life has changed
and you are nothing
like you were before
but who will verify you,
who will let you pass?
and aren’t you a stranger
and aren’t your papers forged
and isn’t your ride late
and your destination

Delilah,
why don’t you now
cut my locks of memories too?
In the dark they all come back,
every bit…
dense as the night.
When all the lights go to sleep
we grow our cropped hair
once again long.
The dust of your days
settles on my eyes
layers on layers.
But in your starved mind
philistine thoughts betray
all thoughts of us.
Good that my eyes are gouged out
for don’t we all today
gaze eyeless at Gaza.

Moment to moment, we learned
more at recess than we learned,
moment to moment, in any class.
Learned how to decide upon the extra
boy at extra shortstop between first
and second, learned the poetry
of jump rope and why boys could
only watch, and jeer when we
were caught watching. Learned
thereby the diplomacies of nations.
But if it weren’t for the classes,
the drudgery of carrying numbers,
the humiliation of coming back
from measles being confined
to one column still, but also

The long unending chain of toadies all but goes on knees
To kiss the ground beneath the Caesar’s feet divine,
And masses spineless fawn o’er him with lolling tongues canine,
While Caesar smugly smiles.
His laurels, rank, and destiny, his power, throne and crown,
Anoint him with, then gladly they press on him their leash.
Teeth glittering, widened lips, resounding, deafening claps,
At every single dropping word from Caesar’s lips divine.
Then tail-like wag all tongues; sweeter than honey spread,

  No glass in the windows a shell hole in the roof wretched tanks, old fighter jets and rust kissed guns lie around as discarded toys. In the distance traits of dust rises from Anglo-American vehicles running after the Taliban cocoons. Fighter bombers passes overhead repeatedly cough, cold and stomatch bug rules. Nearby, a seven year old child picks up[Read More...]

Atmosphere polluted Food adulterated Water contaminated Earth! Why are you silent? Meandering along The strife – torn lands With people lynching River ! Why are you silent ? (1) Crops failures Farmers suicides Wailing bereaved families Conscience ! Why are you silent? Bombings and shootings Killing Innocents with drones Battles on borders Peace! Why are you silent? Rapes and murders[Read More...]

Four lieutenants
Maybe ensigns
Or captains
Services combined
Took their seats
Their coats
Their caps
To chatter
While at the table
Long
Sat admirals and generals
Strong
Discussing with their minister
Today nothing more sinister
Than how many
Girls
How many
Boys
Recruited to slay
With their toys
It took to clean
An admiral’s hat
Soiled by a pigeon
Not a cat
To clean the cover
Remove the stain
But leave those
At table

… and that question was ‘Why?’
Complicated in its simplicity,
infinite in possibilities.
A discussion need not be an argument…
we do not have to agree
to remain civil and polite.
A difference of opinion
is healthy not combative
if you mute your ego
and open up your mind.
My disagreement should not be an insult.
There is no ‘Right’ or ‘Wrong’
to logic and understanding.
Common-sense is one of the few things
which cannot be bought
or taught in universities,
you’ve either got it or you’ve not.