Best Landless Poems
Cattle rolled tracks
Straw sacks
Migrants rode lonely
Lonesome rhythm in sound
Landless –
She watched the towers fall to earth that pristine, young fall morn.
She saw the skies so clear and blue and then the clear was gone.
As horror filled her inner soul; her heart and mind were lead.
The towers crumbled one by one . . and everyone was dead.
Harsh sobs came forth from deep inside, but still her face was dry.
More sadness than a tear could bear; her eyes refused to cry.
She prayed to God: then called Him out. She begged Him intervene.
As all the while the horror grew, with each new ghastly scene.
The day wore on becoming night: grey ash and twisted steel.
So much to work through in her mind; how could this all be real?
"You need to cry", she spoke aloud; you need assuage your soul.
You need to sob: make peace with God, if your faith's to remain whole”.
Yet still the tears refused to come, denied her all relief.
It seemed that tears could not begin to lessen untold grief.
Then came a truth from deep inside, meant for her . . and me.
“If you could cry for what you've seen, you'd overflow each sea”.
“If tears would pay for all the pain that man has caused to man;
Salt lakes would one day cover, what was once earth's arid land.
Could tears atone for every lesser creature man's abused,
More water from the eyes would flow, than earth could ever use”.
“Tears surely meant to bathe this sphere, like soft and healing rain;
The air and soil and streams befouled for mankind's worldly gain.
Why earth would be a pale blue orb . . a landless, liquid ball.
Could tears atone for man's misdeeds; no earth would show at all”.
The roaring gun that knew no owners
The ghost incarnated in a metal
groaning in the Pearl of Africa
Terminating the blood f cattle keepers
Hurtling the flesh of land tillers
Tormenting landless hunters
Scaring away lions of Mburo
And leaving Mbarara homeless
Samba Samba
The gun of a dictator
The gun that killed Ugandans
The gun that liberated Ugandans
The gun that we know better
As close friend and closest enemy
The gun we still carry
Part Three
...swishing away with your sunshrivelled burgundy knotty arms with broad disdainful harvesting sweeps the cobras come out to water in the sweltering heat by the thatched fly-buzzed hole
your low under-the-breath warning tones a reminder of the will of your self-inflicted charge
you never ate until i gorged myself
like the dutiful wife given with a dowry
watching me all the time through the shield of the wisp of cloud of cheroot smoke in your sentinel corner against the far wall your eyes glinting fearing that i might take exception and even before my plate was half-empty you had already darted across the kitchen floor to bring me more fried brinjals mashed greens fried and sliced plantain the steaming rice lying bare by its metal cover hanging on the lip of the open pot-mouth in a clear aluminium pot by my side
now they say you are gone for some plotted and took your life in haste
even before you had time to ensure an heir
others say you were alone dismayed abandoned by your own
prey to enchanters coveting
the plot of land the house derelict forsaken by your absence
they say some one else caretakes it for himself
others no a forbidden son of your husband’s has raked it for himself
alas would you have known how landless nationless stateless i’d be
this dot of ancestral land clinging-clanging in memory
did you know then you might never see me again
nor probably ever hear of me
or if you had how might you have taken it all
did you believe the tales true and false they told
or only what you wanted to hear
of your precious prince you once served in silence and
who had gone to slave in other lands
Notes
eevaa peerankal muuvaa marunthu is a take on another well-known Tamil proverb: eevaa makkal muuvaa marunthu meaning “children who obey even before the order is given are a God-send”. Here, in lieu of children, the word “grandparents” is substituted
chembu: a small usually copper vessel shaped like a rounded vase with a tapering neck and open mouth, used for holding drinking water or milk
kuul: thick holdall gruel which may also be highly spiced
chemman: red soil
Vaithi: ayurvedic doctor, practising the traditional Indian homeopathic medicine
© T.Wignesan 1997 - Paris May 7, 1997 (from the Sequence/Collection: "Words for a Lost Sub-Continent")
Now that I have gotten that over with,
Being straightforward as a piss-ant on fire,
Telling you it just is what it is,
That behind all the frizz,
Is a beardless fake whose heraldic bearings
Are the arms of a sickly snake,
And that all this derogatory self-derision is decisively the result
Of a disease smitten assault by a prodigal bug
Whose virility is known to create sterility of poetic taste-
Oh what a waste to find oneself in such a caste,
Outcast in a landless mire of sea,
Where there is no Sea king to lead back to land,
Where seeking leads not to seeing
But only to being the miserly plot written by this poetasters hand-
Now, to repeat, that I have gotten that over with,
I can really try,
Once and for all,
To really get it over with.
Like really really real.
So here it is,
In medias res,
The big ordeal:
Merde! Merde!
J’ai oublié on this very day,
To have taken my ressurectine,
The nectar which this fool requires with some dismay
To not forget his pointless points.
Where is my medicine Edison?
Where is my pill?
How shall I cart this over the hill?
O’sir,
Dear sir,
For in the middle of this rabid petri dish of sheer excitement,
Close to moiety’s shribble,
With voice shrill,
Ready to take aim and avoid all shame,
I was, I was, I was, I swear
Almost there,
But alas,
I am,
Now out of gas,
With nothing more to gain,
A timid loveless swain,
A witless poet with no further words to amass,
A neutered puppy in a jungle,
Without a rumble,
To stumble upon just the right word,
To close off looking less like a turd,
Then this early morning bird,
Preferably one day,
Could theoretically mumble.
Did I mention that between finding Absolute Knowledge,
And miming Absolute Knowledge,
I would like to find myself snuggly ensconced in the arms,
Of not only Winnie the Pooh,
But surely Yogi Berra too?
Limerick: No Cossacks charge down Arc de Triomphe
No Cossacks charge down Arc de Triomphe
Champs Elysée hourra! in triumph
For World Ruler no less
Come to check French prowess
World rivets eyes according to Gumph
Here the Seine rises not to greet Trump
Nor the Eiffel Tower lean in slump
Loose tract of Arctic ice
Bound for US in vice
Great Leader returns to rule vast swamp
At last the World will groan all alone
At Djibouti PRC horns blown
Will Marines take over
From Great Landless Leader
Thus ends Climate Change Treaty in clone !
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
A bliss so old, yet void of functional losses
seemingly very simple- making them a divine binary
exhibiting commitment cutely disciplined, fashioned and pure
superseding the training of a hundred seminaries
Just holding hands and perfume’s scent
bring back memories and give a fresh experience
oldskool tease and creative naughtiness
generate uniquely a specific ambience
Periods had gone, stages were set
yet getting stronger, phase after phase
despite all extremities and pressures boldly faced
the bond enjoys water, making the union such an unbreakable vase
love through the ages, strengthened by a thousand cords
powerful and exemplary, only death can be its landless lord
And then paper went silent
leaving same sensation
again that bloody feeling of
big mountain exploding in heat inside my armour plate
just couldn't write the words
with no love among them
their people beheaded one of mine
now trough mine borders theirs screamed for salvation
mine theirs
ours
where did we displaced ours
when
how
always the same in that vicious circle
love and hate chase each other endlessly
clocks are falling off the walls
no limited time period for hate is permitted
as evil is another face of good
just turn that goddamned another cheek
an eye for an eye isn't our god's choice
if it was
He would wiped us out from the planet
we killed his son
now we are killing someones children again
beheading
lifting the wall
strengthened by words
anchored through indifference
they are theirs
send them back
what is broken
can be mended
will never be the same
send them back
shouldn't write those words
with no love among them
they are terrorists
terror could be ours
but europe remains for europeans
send them back
our future is their raping our women
lifting our towns in the air
bombing our schools
churches
hospitals
theirs and ours
under the same sky
stood
And all of that is their now
did I wrote the words
with no love among them?
beheaded religion
and traditionally incorporated patriotism
have written false flag play
clean heart has no misinterpretations
to write a life
only needed is courage
let that paper speak again
trough our borders theirs screaming for salvation
our is beheaded
already tomorrow will be forgotten
as it is less painful
and paper is mute
informations can't endure despair
have you seen them over there
standing in the rain
soaked to the bones
children
women
men
old man
sick
cripled
exausted
heaven is trying to protect their imperfection
mixing his tears with their cry
cleaning them enough so they can merit that crossing
fragile thoughts
mine
climbing over baptised palms
colliding them in prayer for
landless
nameless
lifeless
godless
why have you made us like this?
God went silent
ours
It took me to be me so you could be you
It took me to be short so you could be tall
It took me to be thin so you could be fat
And yes it took me and not you
It took me to be dark so you could be light
It took me to be poor so you could be rich
It took me to starve so you could be eat
And yes it took me and not you
It took me to be sad so you could be happy
It took me to cry so you could laugh
It took me to work so you could be idle
And yes it took me and not you
It took me to lose my family so you could have yours
It took me not to be educated so you could be educated
It took me to be disorientated so you could be orientated
And yes it took me and not you
It took me not to travel so you could travel
It took me to be landless so you could have land
It took me to be homeless so you could have a home
And yes it took me and not you
It took me to adore so you could abhor
It took me to be guilty so you could be not guilty
It took me be accused so you could be not accused
And yes it took me and not you
It took me to die so you could live
O how i wonder if you are living today
Enfolded in nature, we deliberately stand apart
Lurking heavily on industrial achievement
Luring generations to beckon towards the light
That man made idolatry of machine machine
Raging capitalism spleen from Darwin's dream
In intangible regime is impossible to wean
Sucking at the fountain of corporate stream'
Prospects hover in gluttonous parasitic attachment
As layers of process separate human from source
Government zoning forces the management of crude estates
While paper weights stagnate the make up of landless ingrates
the landless...
the forgotten one
born too late
screaming so loud - it is hard to hear
(we failed the living for the dead)
I hear your cry
we hear your cry
your anger is seen
it is your nature
to be angry and bitter
confined and weak
landless-ness froze you in
a hard embrace
legless
mindless
useless...
nobody will say anything
because they fear for their jobs
nobody will care
because they all obtained plots
or the rest will be wanting too
is it time now to go away?
to share this land could free one
forgotten...
but might kill the other
a lone flower grew
in the dark on a hill
defying nature
it bloomed with free will
this barren terrain once
was empty and landless
now full of color
spilled on this empty canvass
every time a petal
dropped into the earth
vibrant colors exploded
similiar to a soft gentle verse
a lone flower grew
in the dark on a hill
that flower was me
finally I am fulfilled
Stranded,wandering drunk tired
miles from the nearest ghost town ,'67 mustang ,yesterday's hotwire
Tijuana bound,spilled its fuel then broke down
you search finding nothing for miles around
Worn by desert air
wandering lost somewhere
in the desert,its season's always summer
blue skies grew dark beyond the horizon...distant thunder
Deathly tired and coursed without water
an expired beer and tequila quench your thirst an order
once cooled by melted crushed ice and chilled lime twist
it's the last remains of last night's tavern visit
skin sunstained dark several shades until it pained
tequila tamed your voice hushed gentle,almost sane
Slow tormenting day
in the distance canyon shade
near the Pacific border miles of landless space ,but its filled with salted water
On Solid and Liquid Grounds
By: Earl Schumacker
Strong winds comb the ocean curve
White threads of mist lift away
Our hearty crew sets out
To find a way off
Solid land and sand abandoned
We bob atop the vast consuming sea
On collapsing dawn and day
A taste of salt
A rise of heights
And crying blinding spray
Moved by rogue waves
Churns and takes us where they will
Falls like iron buildings dispersing beneath a solid liquid world
As monumental weights about us
Removed from boundaries observable
Departures have their ways as fortunes change
Elements of cause displaced with waves
Unannounced
Back to the body of water and related wilds proper
Melds there…. formless…. yet filling in an empty need to remain full
A landless majesty locked in an embrace stays
We struggle
But turned around by forces not our own
Fear grew on us like mold
Rusting our souls in place
Gills and fish splash back our sinking expectations
Told us of their truth
Not ours
We must depart
Their world for ours
Something solid but no less moving
The rivalry
disputes spaces and fights as
landowner and landless
cat and mouse ...!
Ignorant men
fight over money
equal to dogs for garbage ...