Archive for June, 2007

Work in Progress (Psalm 22)

Posted in poetry on June 30, 2007 by artbizness

lon_rainy_street.jpg

I have started writing this poem based aound a re-interpretation of Psalm 22. Be warned – it’s not very uplifting.

Dull in the Morning

My God, my God
why did you forsake me?
why didn’t you save me?
why did you run from this?

Inside
I’m screaming
all day
no answer
all night
silence.

It’s alright
for you.
You’re the King.
Everyone loves you.
My father trusted
and you delivered alright
trusted and disappointed.

But then –
I’m a worm
not a woman.
Scorned by men
hated by everyone
mocking me
insulting me
shaking their heads.

You brought me out of the womb
then you made me trust you
from the breast onwards.
From birth
no choice
womb onwards
you have been my god.
But you disappear
at the first sign of trouble.

Bull
all around me
the strong smell of bullshit
suffocates me.
Roaring, tearing
their prey
opening their mouths
wide on me
poured out water
bones out of joint
my heart like wax
burning inside me
my strength dries up
my tongue sticks
to the roof of my mouth
laid
in the dust
death
dogs surround me
a band of evil men
circling me
piercing me
I can see all my bones
people staring
gloating
they divide my clothes between them.

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T-Shirt

Posted in poetry on June 24, 2007 by artbizness


I wore this t-shirt
when I was five.
It fit me better
back then
but I keep it now
to remind me that I’m still alive.

My t-shirt was smart
it was deep blue
when I look at it
it reminds me
of you.

I framed it
and hung it on the wall –
everyone who visits
can see a smaller me.

It’s faded now
but you can still see
past the holes.
And I am still convinced
that one day
I will wear it again
with pride.

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Biriyani

Posted in poetry on June 15, 2007 by artbizness

A plate full of dhansak
a plate full of pulao
a plate full of gobi..

For a mealtime
at least
a man who would be king
eats like one –
shovelling it down
like a Cnut
trying to hold back
the inevitable tide
like Cleopatra
poisoned by Cobra
he can feel his veins
pulsing
more pulao
a piece of chicken
naan
like Ghengis Khan
he attacks waiters
their poor service
naming each one:
“Abdul”
or “Oi”.

A stuffed paratha
is presented
a peace offering.
Head bowed,
bent knee,
like Sherpa Tensing
offering to carry a burden
to cover the shadow of disappointment;
hot, lemon scented towels
wipe away the tears
please come again
10% service charge added.

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