I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here
I can’t get back in control of my emotions
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy
I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help
Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help
This is about a man whose name is Jesse
Born In Kansas and raised in Missouri
Was called to fight for his beloved country
And assigned to defend an outlying territory
Jesse fought as hard as any American would
For freedom and democracy he did everything he could
For Uncle Sam, even in danger steadfast he stood
Believing in his heart that everything will turn out good
He was with the Death March in Bataan
But he was helped to escape by his special someone
Josie was the name of this special woman
Who walked along with the March since it began
It was in the territory that he met Josie
A woman whose dad was from Cincinnati
The two fell in love cause they had chemistry
They had their first child in nineteen forty three
In forty four he was again captured by the Japanese
He was already sick cause he caught a disease
Was taken to a prison camp and placed under lock and keys
In the end the harsh conditions led to his demise
Josie tried to look for his grave but failed
She couldn't do anything and in sadness she wailed
There were reports that he died in the hell ship as it sailed
But to get proof to the true cause of his death we have failed
Jesse died in January of nineteen forty five
Stories about him that Josie told kept him alive
In the heart of his descendants his memories survive
Love for him in their hearts continues to thrive
But every time I go to bed and close my eyes
I see his face and think of the truth that I despise
My whole body stiffens and I get as cold as ice
Sadly thinking that still, in an unknown grave he lies
(For my grandfather US Army 2nd Lt. Jesse C. Boak of the 33rd Infantry
Regiment, who was declared MIA in WWII. His body was never found and true
cause of his death was never known.His name is listed in the Tablets of the
Missing at the Manila American Cemetery and on a Memorial Monument at the
State of Missouri
Grandpa even though I never got the chance to really know you I will always be
proud of you-JEB)
JESSE C. BOAK
2nd Lt. US Army
Awards: Silver Star, Bronze Star, Purple Heart with 2 Oak Leaf Clusters
How Blessed is she, to be with Thee
My only Prayer, she waits for me
With clouds in the sky, I sit and Cry
Why so young, did she have to die?
My Broken Heart has LOVE denied
I remember her kiss, A Heavenly Bliss
The love in her eyes, I intensely miss
I reminisce of Forever LOVE, so pure
Her Heart of gold, shall always endure
A Broken Heart, Her LOVE is the cure
Softly singing, are the Bagpipes and Fife
In Honor of my Dearest Most Beloved Wife
Living the joyful fulfillment of Eternal Life
FOREVER and ALWAYS I whisper my LOVE
Until We Entwine again , in HEAVEN Above
Inspired By Dr. Ram Mehta's Contest : " ELegy "
Dedicated in Memory of Lenore Ellen (Adams) Johnson
Just one more time,
just one more breath,
just one more moment to remember the past,
lull in thy memories,
breathe in thy essence,
to look upon thy face,
to know you still care,
to know what we had was special,
to be preserved in preferred memories.
Where I am going I know naught.
Floating as if in limpid water currents,
languor reaching but finding not,
solitary enraged soul longing for one more kiss,
one kiss whence naught.
Malformed monsters feast
upon the vermin ravishing mine soul,
my tender heart loathing sunset’s rays enfold,
nighttime beseech me, broken heart unfold.
Another night shine through tears,
summoned by memories a hundredfold,
putrid time consumes life;
Cruel Life Sleeps.
Once again he climbs the hills above the salty bay
and walks along the path through fields where she used to play.
His silver hair and tattered clothes blowing in the wind,
that whispers the name of his sweet darling Carolynn.
He sits upon a rock and looks out to the water,
and once again she comes to him, his precious daughter;
through the ghostly floating mist, he sees her smiling eyes,
those eyes where forever more, his heart and soul reside.
She takes his hand and leads him to the fields of clover;
to that place on the cliff that the old tree grows over;
and he sees the rope tied 'round the bough of that old tree,
and feels the sunshine on his face, hears the humming bees.
His heart begins to pound, like a hammer in his chest,
as she runs with glee towards the overhanging crest;
he tries to stop her, but his feet stay froze to the ground;
he screams to no avail, being deaf she hears no sound.
She laughs and waves goodbye as she grabs the braided rope
and runs with all her might and swings out above the slope
and in that moment, he hears the snapping of the bough,
and he sees her dangling there, high above the brow.
He sees her startled eyes and he hears her helpless cries,
just before she falls on to the rocks below and dies.
He falls to his knees screaming and crawls out to the edge,
and when he looks below, he knows that he too is dead.
And they find him forty years from that fateful day,
Hanging from the old oak tree, where she used to play.
Every Everyday I feel the same old mistakes brushing up my leg and heading
striaght for my heart. Trying make me sting... stupid memories, I can't shake them away
and they just make me feel everyday regrets. I knew you were leaving, I could feel it
inside. Yet it seemed like life just kept moving on... it never let me stop for a minute
to see how you were doing and I blame myself for not saying good bye. Sometimes I cry
when I think about you... sometimes I wonder why I didn't just go see you. One more
mistake and my heart keeps on aching. I'm not ready for this but even so it kills me.
Everyday regrets about the times i'll never forget and the things I never got to say. I
know your looking down on me trying to console me but in my mind everything went wrong
and I wasn't even there... you just passed right along and I couldn't even hold your
hand. I wanted to be there... I had grown up a lot since this ever ending roller coaster
ride and just as I was getting off the dizziness still hadn't worn off. You were taking
away in the middle of the night... I wasn't even there and that makes me sad. I didn't
hear you voice... I didn't show any remorse and it hurts me deep inside that I will never
see your heart beat again or see you talk to me like you used to do. Everyday Regrets and
I keep on blaming myself in a story that just won't ever end and will continue until I
see your face again. I won't forget, I will remember... I disappointed you and that's all
I can say for now goodbye is hardly the words I ever wanted to say. But now your gone and
i'm living with everyday regrets.
When my eyes close for the last time
I hope to have touched so many in my
Life time on my journey of life
Those I meet and left behind
With my smile and loving heart
That never discriminated
And hated in justice felt from the heart
When love it was from deep with in
Protected with faith those loved
And held closes to my heart
Never hated but forgave those who
Try to keep me down and kill my faith
To those who shed a tear for me
I hope to wipe dry with my love not gone
For my loving heart lives on with in each
And every one who knew me as big as my height
I will be with you in heart and spirit
For you will keep alive every time you think of me
Remember the good memories
Relive them when you feel sad that I am gone
For I will be in a better place at rest
Waiting to reunite with each and every one
Much love always
The final step
Someday, lone shall I lie,
Gazing at the starry sky,
Flanked by the shady trees,
And fondled by the cool breeze.
Blossoms shall adorn my grave,
Nothing more my heart shall crave,
Moon beams will linger on me,
Though still and cold I shall be.
No more dreams to dwell on,
Nor any dreams to bank upon,
Nothing to lose, nothing to gain,
Not even my memory shall remain.
As before, the sun shall shine,
Then shall come the rain,
But my heart shall bear no pain
Nor leave anything, that is mine.
May there be none to wipe a tear,
For sorrows no more need I bear,
And only peace shall in me surge,
Nature! When with Ye, I merge.
To see her blog, adorned with pastel tones
Widens the gap that pervades my bones
For now we eat her passing meal of plain white rice
Leaving us all alone, without much needed fashion advice
The red light district has lost an inductee
For I would have love to be involved in her naked party
Yet for now we must all be content
With the debauched path she hath went.
Sadness invades a binary world
Where tweeters and bloggers hearts have curled
Bringing back memories of Madonna’s ‘Like A Virgin’
Her fashion advice precise like a mastoplexic surgeon
I remember the fervour when you were followed by Kath Kidston
A similar experience when I had my first Jar of Branston
Yet when you found out the intensity with which I was following you
You wanted to change species and become a Gnu
You learnt to accept my frequent outpourings of love
When you finally spoke to me, I felt as free as a pure white dove
But upon your departure I feel pathetic and hollowed
The best I can hope for is the number of one of the hot bloggers you followed
She was always my muse, my intimate inspiration
No-one can cause such an outpouring of personal perspiration
My heart now yearns to see her type a special tweet
One that would make Mr Sexton act like a dog on heat
Now the world mourns the passing of Lily Fulvio-Mason
I can still see her face reflected in my wash basin
With every heart beat, every full blooded pulse
My sadness streaked blood makes my body convulse
But now it’s time to go, my heart says goodbye
The pain eats my nipples like the Syrphid Fly
I can finally see your body laid in an eternal rest
And now I can now finally uncover your breast.
My heart egos and my life drained from me
Simple life I live, I act as I know all
But I know not, no, not even a little
I earnestly seek for recognitions
But my life and my heart is a hole.
An empty vessel, soulless, loveless
I have been succumb by the pain of heart aches
I have become a broken man,
Know not what my future holds
I envy those who went before me, who were acknowledge
I hold on to the little shred of hope in me,
I am being drowned by my own sorrows.
Love, hate, a new beginning and ending of my old self never seems to happen
My wrath against my enemies is nothing for they humor me with insults.
Let not death come to me in misery and despair,
For life is full of joy and full of sorrows.
Love me, as who would love a stranger from nowhere.
Let my sorrows be taken away by the love of many
But at last, no one would.
Don’t cry for me, for no one knows me
They came before my grave and said “who is this man?”
“Why is the name not written?”
It is not written because I am nothing
Don’t shed a tear for the stranger such as me.
Life is like a dream on a calm sea,
As the captain gracefully steer and gently moves its rudder.
The passenger puts their lives in his hands,
A calm sea is the heaven of any sailor.
“So, where is my captain?”
The wind blows every so gently,
But my heart sinks gently into the sea;
Who will mourn for the stranger?
Drowned from my grief,
My faith begins to waver like a ship tossed around by the winnowing wind
My heaven, my calm sea turns against me as I sail the Galilean sea
“Where are thy words that calm the raging storm?”
Ay! I have no peace even in my passing.
I have not thy words of command,
For my faith has been tossed away by the hating winds,
Shallow, empty, and broken I lay here in an unnamed grave.
Only thy mercy will guide me to the third heaven!
Let my sorrows be washed away by the blood of the innocent lamp.
Let thy words be the honey drops for mine,
As this world knows only lies
Blinded by greed and lust,
They seek only to destroy of what they fear.
And my sorrows are tossed away by thy promises.
For thy compassion for lost sheep is great.
"Have I found peace?"
I have, for I know my heart is at rest when my body has aged
And my salvation has come
When I died with thy Words of truth
As tears flow from my reddened eyes
I can see what I have purely missed
As I look up to the dark grey skies
I will always remember our first fist
I sit here and think of your face
The first time I saw your light fluffy cheeks
I always wanted to lay my head on that place
Even when I was buried in my girlfriend’s twin peaks.
You never knew my love for you
I waited until it was too late
I often yearned for a way through
Both your heart and your front gate.
But now you’ve passed away
Slipped through my limp and lifeless fingers
But I still yearn for that fortuitous day
And the smell of your tobacco colour coat still lingers.
As I stare at my homage dedicated to you
I can feel a heart shaped hole called ‘Noah’
My body is conflicted, I don’t know what to do
It’s such a shame that you were found in pieces underneath a lawnmower.
So many holes, and opportunities now
I feel my body grow harder
For you Noah would only allow
One hole to be ventured in farther
As you led there erotically
on the grass that day
with your legs so lovely
I couldn’t take my eyes away
So I didn’t see
The lawnmower draw near
The blades running free
And beginning to career
Ever closer to your toes
To impoverish your heart
I’m the only one who knows
How a love like this does start
To think I won’t see you again
Striding majestically down the Bath Road
And, protecting your shoulders from the rain
Your little tobacco coloured coat
I wish I had been able to say
All this to you when you were alive
I came so close once, that fateful day
When we were standing outside the Beehive
Your hair was golden in the glow
Of the solitary standing streetlamp
Yet still, you couldn’t ever know
My feeling for you or my heart would cramp
And now you’re dead you selfish thing
You’ll never hear me speak these thoughts
You’ll never feel me ‘flap my wings’
Or ogle me as I cavort
But now you’re in the ground
In the darkness and despair
But I have now created a mound
Where I can collect your hair
My heart is soaked in liquid salt
My clothes cling to my body
Although I know that it’s no-one fault
Staring at you was my favourite hobby
Now it’s time to say goodbye
My lovely little pet
My heart still yearns, my eyes still cry
Although we never met
the rain becomes autumn
and autumn becomes rain
there is a Gold Surviving System
(GSS) around the brain
with unexpected creatures
who lift the modern burden
of being so involved
in glass rotating hours
curriculum vitae sleep
and we call this LOVE
and we fall in a drop
among yellow leaves.
Men are gone
Babies dis flowered
We are gone astray
We are wounded
We are not all well
We bleed, we scream
Yet no one hears us
Roses turned to brown
I wont go there
I wont go- i wont go
We are lost in the dust
Yesterday was better
Today it becomes worst
And we complain not
It seems like we are
left in the midst of confusion
We are gone- we are gone.
her kisses were gossomer cold...honest
she devoured every star on which she rode
at times, amber spirits would peal the veneer
expose the pulp of her mind...scarred...
one night the shine sprinted from her grasp,
living dullened that wild horse stride...
she curled up in my heart palm,
wilted and worn-like a scorched flower
slashed by the lightning streaks of life...
told me she was frightened of it all
at times she wished to be weak,( to sow strength?)
to be legless, aimless( to polish the stride of her wandering being?)
at the end she devolved
her heart became a cloud high paper wall,
on which everyone scribbled their hate...
but nobody breeched her heart like i did
that is our legacy...screw them all...
a smear of black and red petals in the morning frost...
a frost ,that for now kisses all my dreams
she was strength- weakness
a rainbow of disease
complete...in this brevity called her life.
You told me,
Just to write a poem.
You did not tell me whether
It would be nimble lined,
What meter, what rhyme?
Nor did you tell of the matter --
Of love, fantasy or despair;
Or of friendship, business, or repair.
Here I write for you
Like some beads on a grass
Just like the dew
I wrote for you!
I MOURN WITH YOU PROFESSOR
Shadow and mirage are thesame;
The former is never a substance
And the latter never an oasis.
But the death of a child is both:
Hope is dashed and respite betrayed
Leaving only behind the pain of rising utility
That often comes from the nostalgia of reality...
I mourn with you Professor.
do not rejoice o’er her tho’ she lieth down
she still lives on: she still speaks to our clan
as long as moon or star or sun does in an
untiring journey like an old minstrel drums
along the many hazy river alleys thornfill’d
oh, death, thou shouldst speak unproudly
here beside our lively mother’s grave-stones -
thou art too timid & fearful to take the truth:
thou, death, were dead years back on a pole
where bled her saviour, our saviour – nay!
death, thou shouldst be shame-fill’d or art
thou too hasty to strike her down with a bow
that her saviour had broken on the cross?
do not rejoice o’er her tho’ she lieth down
she still lives on: she still speaks to our clan.
I stood by the periphery…
gracelessly doling derivative remarks
(all that is rhetorical in rhetoric and blatant in denial)
upon my comrades, the dust shot Sandinistas of midsummer masochism,
the caliphs of ‘Baltic Bay’.
“The armistice laid flowers upon
the salt seasoned lip of the hatch-backed hawk…”
Blood fell passively between his heartbroken legs,
siphoned from each and every available pore;
the oxygenated irony of pneumatic Gnosticism:
“The desert was a beach.”
They say that war is a catalytic catharsis, a palatial reprieve,
without languid logic or porous rationality,
the emancipation of masculinity,
castrated by the wire…
I thought it was hell… I was taught to think otherwise…
The torrential shards of verbal promiscuity
stole light unto the fore,
the parochial labyrinth of incandescent egotism,
Rare, poached howitzers… laden with anxiety
bore slight from the barbed-wire battalion
of ill-fitting idiots,
shuffling their feet, settling their nerves,
sealing their fate with
slack pot meandering midst snip sniped surprise.
“The technicality of principalities, dukedoms and deceit,
tune the tuneless melody and save your soul from hate. “
Their calibre unknown, their reasons unfounded…
the calypso calling cantaloupes of entrepreneurial acumen
shot black with dusk… slid unto the night.
Corporal rationale: “Half an hour of ambiguity…”
Lieutenant liquidation: “Twenty minutes of woe…”
Collective privacy: “Ten minutes of philistine philanthropy…”
Collective piracy: “Five minutes of... … ….”
Towel clenched soviets, eager and resentful,
scape-goaded the photographic horde into meagre submission…
subverting the course of justice.
Rented Kalashnikovs rattled ravenous replies…
once, twice, three times a corpse…
“Androgyny and xenophiles, the pasteurised provocateur…
draped in Prada propped dynamics, mechanically aware…”
Desiccant faeces flew five feet into the air;
the aluminium gilded lavatories received the short end of the stick,
literally liquidated within (without) the… humdrum humidity.
Gabriel dictated the proceedings.
The abortive restraint of sycophantic silencers
and Hassidic hallucinations,
graced by a political patriarchy…
urinating upon the synthetic soil.
Sing a song of Taj Mahal
A landmark of lovers
And a lover's edifice
With medieval bowers
Tis a mecca for tourists
Tis sensational, tis exceptional,
tis truly a touristy place
Watch the shine and shimmer
of its magnificent marbled
By the glimmer of moonlight
or sunlight, it's imperial chrome
So it's ironical then
that though Indian I am
I haven't yet been to this
It is truly as they must say, a
A place where hearts tend to
They find it steamy
I find it dreamy
Oh I've to see for myself this
Each of the marbled minarets
conceal some romantic secrets
For lovers to silently explore
To admire and to adore
A place few lovers could ignore
Ah, you've got to visit this
Two famed lovers lie in the
legendary vault below
and the stream too has a
A lover's haven, a paradise on
Even dead passions there
undergo a new rebirth
Ah rekindle my love in this
Extol I may this awesome
A greed for pure love is
perhaps better than avarice
So sing a song of Taj Mahal
A nice nazm or a great ghazal
So forever we have this
Ah take me my love to this
Old age is a strange time you have no future and tend
to look back to what was is a dream.
How long does old age last?
My wife and I are closer than ever, but are we clinging
to a life buoy of eternity?
I look at her, she has problem walking looks st me
and we both think the same.
So used you to each strength and weaknesses,
how is she or she going to survive?
We have come to a point when our arguments are
a declaration of love.
The coward I’m I hope to go before her I can’t cope
with the aftermath that can cause
resentment that fester for another generation.
And in early mornings I touch a warm body listening
to her gentle breathe glad to be alive.
I find it strange coming home
and not seeing you this evening
I know I shall never see your eyes again
but I shall always feel their gaze
anytime thoughts of you come to my mind
I can still hear your pitiful moan
the first day I kept you in the kennel
Forgive me for not realizing
that a spirit like yours
was not meant to be caged
After you were set free
how different and alive you looked
jumping around in the yard
with those precise energetic leaps
So goodbye my little Gypsy
I shall never see you again
but you will always dwell
in that secret spot in my heart
Thank you for the beauty
you brought into my life
November 4, 2013
Where birds are two
We ask:where is the eagle?
Where trees are two
We ask: where is iroko?
Where men become two
We ask: where is Okonkwo?
Gut in the forest of Titans
He roared in the jungle and
Frightened those in the streets;
He stood the wrath of a tiger:
Made morsel of his gut
And status-jacket of its skin
Since then he wore not goat's skin
His was tiger's batik.
Because of fight,he rested his head on pestles
Because of fear,he knitted his heart with cables;
In battle, he killed in dozens;at home,
He marched on dozen fowls
If we did not see him in battle field
Did we not see him at home?
When fear was wild
With its tongue of flame and fangs of blood
Only Okonkwo stood,stood akimbo and spat:
Which chick eats beads like beans?
Which puppy eats elephant's scapula?
Which demon stands Chinua Achebe?
When woodpecker pecks trees
Does it also peck plantain tree?
When thunder strikes,
Its honour is certain:
Songo king of pebbles
Masqurade in war front
He that we could not confront
And lobbied the bully to wrestle
But made the bully's skull his cup
Man of brawn, man of brain.
Where is Okonkwo?
Big Iroko that blunted axes
Where is Okonkwo?
Bellows that spat fire and melted metal;
I say where is Okonkwo?
Sheath that swallowed sword
And locked out its handle
For Chinua Achebe ,the author of : Things Fall Apart.
-DECEMBER 25,2:37 AM-
SHE WAS THINNING 'WAY-
HER COLOUR GOING GRAY
WHILE SHE DROWNED IN SWEAT:
"GERALD,HAVE YOU SLEPT?"
HER VOICE SO OLD,
AND GAVE ME THE COLD.
BUT HOW COULD I SLEEP
WHILE MUM'S LIFE COULD CREEP...?
I HAD BEEN CRYING
WEEPING AND WEEPING
SILENTLY FOR HER-
MY MOTHER WAS DYING..
I CREPT FROM MY BED:
NO LIGHTS; POOR AND SAID-
I HELD HER WEAK HANDS-
COLD WITHOUT LIFE'S TAN:
I HEARD HER BREATHING-
AND MY HEART CRAVING
FOR MAMA'S GOOD HEALTH.
"BUT," I ASKED MYSELF:
"WHY MUST SHE SUFFER
NEAR A WEEPING SON?"
AND WHERE WAS FATHER?
HE WAS DEAD AND GONE.
I WEPT AS I THOUGHT.
"RETURN TO YOUR COT,
YOU NEED A NIGHT'S SLEEP."
SHE SPOKE, MY HEART LEAPED.
"I SHALL BE HERE UNTIL
DEATH IS NOT FULFILLED-
YOU SHALL NEVER DIE
ELSE I SHALL GHASTLY CRY."
SHE PRESSED ME TO HER HEART
AND GAVE ME A GENT' PAT.
"GERALD,PLEASE LET US SLEEP
AND MY SON DO NOT WEEP.
"IF I DIE, THEN GOD CALLED
CAUSING WEEPS TO COME FORTH-
BUT DO PRAY FOR MY SOUL,
TO REST IN HAVEN'S HOLD."
"BUT MUM," I CRIED."DO STOP."
"SON," SHE CONTINUED."DEATH
IS INHERENT TO LIFE.
DEATH COMES 'ROUND AS WE STRIVE."
I TOOK HER HANDS IN MINE
FEELING THEM FREEZING,KIND:
-THUS ENDED HER EARTHLY STAY,
WHILE I STILL HAD MUCH TO SAY.....
...AND EVERY LAUGHTER EVAPORATED
FROM MY FACE AS EVERY CHRISTMAS
BRINGS SAD MEMORIES
BACK TO MIND......
CONTEST NAME-"Saddest" Christmas Ever
SPONSOR-Constance La France
I picture Kashmir through lightened KL. News of another massacre darkens my eyes
Winds are thirsty there. They continue to taste the young blood.
I groom myself with exquisite things,
Sipping ice tea in ac room, I comfort myself
And Kashmir burns. Kashmir set ablaze
I can smell the warm blood of beaten corpse
Where from winds bought this smell. Somewhere Karbala reborn.
Mosques are being slammed
There windows stoned. And the black boots leave their footprints on Mimber
Even God judges on evidence
There is one Imaam left now; he hides her daughters in his shadow
A blunt knife in his hands; soon he will sacrifice them to keep their innocence
Kashmir is burning. Kashmir is bleeding
And I write.
Army jeep chases the tracks. To find the associated bodies
They are alive now. Soon they will be dead
From Patan to Sopor, And in narrow passages of nostalgic downtown
Ghosts of curfew
Haunt the houses for young souls.
From the Kupwara cantonments, search lights chase emptiness
Nothing is left now. Search lights can’t see inside the graves
A boy there went missing for two days. His father starts digging his grave.
I put my earphones on and I close my eyes. I sleep
While my Kashmir is ablaze
“It’s me poor farmer’s son. Kupwara’s charm, I feel no pain”.
I see him so alive in my dreams.
He chants songs of Mahjoor from his burnt lips. My hands shiver. He has no finger nails.
I see his smoke tanned skin. Same as that of Khayam’s barbeques
He stands at a distance from me. I can still smell kerosene
“Tell my mother to let her heart become cold. Her heart will not bear my state.
Tell my mother to let her eyes become blind. Her eyes will not withstand my sight.”
I follow him towards his tortured body. He tells me to follow the spilled blood.
His blood has made its own Jhelum. I row on it. Until it gets lost in black boots
The story will turn into legend. I find his body no more.
On the streets silence prevails. Nobody has permission to wail.
Sisters are beatifying coffins while brothers look for stones.
For bullets there will be stones
Kashmir is ablaze. She is wailing in grotesque tones.
In Lal Ded hospital a new born cries: Father register me at cantonment then take me out
Death is recruiting in dozens at a time.
Tomorrow is curfew. Death has no curfew pass.
How they want to identity you. Becomes your identity
People burn up all you identity cards.
x T x
I have no complaints from life without you
but without you this life doesn’t seem like life....
May God forgive me,
I know I’m wrong, so very wrong....
This heart still beats for you,
These eyes still dream of you,
We met when you couldn’t be mine,
So why did we cohort.....
You said you Loved me, but couldn’t be mine
Why then did I relent,
Why did I become yours
Why did i lose myself......
Your charm bewitched me
Your charismatic personality allured me
You touched my life
You touched my soul,
You left a desire i never knew before
You left your mark, a void that can't be filled....
How easily you say to me close this chapter of your life,
Go build a new life.....
You became my dream, still
I accept you'll never be mine....
You will build your life
how do i stop....
This heart from yearning for you,
These eyes from searching for you,
These hands from reaching out to text u....
your number i still remember
but..... stop my hands
as i remember your request
'close this chapter'
My nights are lonely,
as are my crowded days
You are my only awakening thought
first and last of the day...
What would i not give to lose myself
in those blue eyes, once again
.... how they looked at me, i'll never forget!
Memories are all i have.....
I have no complaints from life without you
.......it goes on,
but without you this life doesn’t seem like life.
I know i'm wrong, so very wrong...
May God forgive me
The Jaguar has
I wish they taught more about
Heartbreak in English class;
That I would see your face
In stormclouds, when
Bronze from the sunset scribbles
Our names in the sky.
It is happening every day.
I am no prize
In my Rossington-Collins band teeshirt
And deliberately torn jeans,
Sitting on the end of the street-
The place where horizon brush strokes
Another son is dead, until five he lived.
For his long life at Shah-Hamdan he had threads tied
“Shehij ninder yee nai. Gahas Kormakh Khudayas Hawale”, his mother cries.
No news can penetrate across the mountains. Satellites work here no more
My Kashmir burns. And no one knows.
An old woman with torn scarf sits besides fire. While feeding her neighbor’s child
She sighs. Is my son dead or alive? She silently cries.
In Madrasa I hear children reciting Quran. A girl’s come out dragging her feet.
I remember her from somewhere. I remember her seeing naked.
Oh! God she is the one who was raped.
Nights have turned pitch black. My eyes are losing the habit of sight
Midnight soldier’s set another house ablaze. At least there is some sort of light.
Many letters have been written to God. Postcards posted of those raped girl’s
But its curfew again. No post office deliver’s the message again.
Death comes from everywhere. Close your windows mother
For bullet respects no womb. It turned Gulistans into tombs.
From the plains the visitors come to visit their God’s
They are our only witnesses but hypocrites at heart.
They say paradise is kaasmir. While my Kashmir is ablaze
They testify against us. Is anybody witnessing this? No one at all
Be witness to at least this. Open up your eyes my Lord!
When paradise is painted with colors of hell, certainly divinity loses its grace
In the news the reporter is beaten. Bamboo sticks are hungry for human blood.
Let Kashmir go to hell. A new promise in their portfolio.
Threads have given up at Dastegeer’s place. Even they are horrified at our fate.
In Maisuma boys are dragged by police. They close their dreams, end their screams
In a police gypsy.
Men shape into monsters when they are given right to anarchy.
The gypsy drives them into the dark cantonments. They will remember this day
Interrogation officer comes. After celebrating his son’s birthday.
The winds from the cantonments bring their news
Burned tires around their necks. Burning stoves near their heads.
The knife tearing up their flesh.
And the boys cry, “We haven’t batted yet. Cricket. We know nothing”.
Death wants children to be headlines
Hunger has affected the heavens as well.
Graves are full. No more space left.
We need land of the plains. For our graves.
In the ac car the bureaucrat goes. The mother’s with search full eyes
Ask about their sons they lost. They drink their tears
And he sips champagne.
She was thinning 'way-
Her color going gray
While she drowned in sweat:
"Gerald, have you slept?"
Her voice so old,
And gave me the cold.
But how could I sleep
While mum's life could creep...?
I had been crying
Weeping and weeping
Silently for her-
My mother was dying..
I crept from my bed:
No lights; poor and said-
I held her weak hands-
Cold without life's tan:
I heard her breathing-
And my heart craving
For mama's good health.
"But," I asked myself:
"Why must she suffer
Near a weeping son?"
And where was father?
He was dead and gone.
I wept as I thought.
"Return to your cot,
You need a night's sleep."
She spoke, my heart leaped.
"I shall be here until
Death is not fulfilled-
You shall never die
Else I shall ghastly cry."
She pressed me to her heart
And gave me a gent' pat.
"Gerald, please let us sleep
And my son do not weep.
"If I die, then god called
Causing weeds to come forth-
But do pray for my soul,
To rest in haven's hold."
"But mum," I cried. "do stop."
"Son," she continued. «Death
Is inherent to life.
Death comes 'round as we strive."
I wept as i watched her shiver
While her pale lips quivered
As she struggled out, ''Goodbye.''
I took her hands in mine
Feeling them freezing, kind:
-thus ended her earthly stay,
While i still had much to say.....