In the black throat of space, words spiral,
Charred syllables drifting like moths to no flame.
Every book, every prayer, every curse
Finds its way into the bone-dust of stars.
I dream of archives stitched into the dark,
Veins of memory pulsing through nebulae—
All our hands, bloody or tender,
Catalogued in the frost of dead moons,
And liquid methane.
The universe hums like a nuclear engine,
Its shelves sagging with unsaid apologies,
Maps drawn by trembling conquerors,
The taste of fruit extinct for a thousand years.
We vanish, but the sentences remain,
Tattooed in light, spinning past the last horizon,
A chorus of vanished throats still singing,
Though no ear will ever hear them again made whole.
What is your North Star,
Your moral compass
Which all your oughts and shoulds
And not good enoughs revolve around?
Every time we see the world
Either as good or needing to be better
We’re judging by an internal compass
It has taken a lifetime to form.
And it’s a compass
Influenced by and expressing
Everything we have ever learned
Everything we have ever been taught.
And yet, what actually is it?
What actually forms it, and what do we do
To make sure our heart and mind
Aims to a true north?
(8/1/25)
Nickel
and dimed, nickel
and dimed: the neglected
human center can't hold undone
for gold.
I was beaten in school
for speaking Themne
my own tongue
a melody they called a wrong note.
I ran to my father for comfort
but he looked away
called me foolish
for not knowing the world had changed.
I knelt beneath the old tree
offering thanks for rain and harvest
they said I was lost
praying to shadows and myths.
I wore my lion skin with pride
feet firm in Crocs-hide sandals
they mocked my walk
said I was wild, uncivilized.
But what truly is civilization?
Is it silencing my mother’s voice?
Replacing gods with shame?
Or disguising erasure as progress?
they don’t walk like the rest of us—
there’s a rhythm, yes, but it’s off-beat,
like jazz played in a padded cell.
it starts early—when the dog barked too loud
and nobody hugged them after.
the world lit its fuse,
and turned the other way.
they grow quiet in the corners of rooms,
watching how the meat falls off the bone,
how people talk and never mean it.
they learn that silence
can be louder than a scream,
that control is a scalpel—
and god never showed up,
to stop one.
trophies?
souvenirs from where the soul cracked.
a button, a tooth, a braid of hair—
proof that something existed
and bowed before them.
the rest of us save postcards.
they save reminders
that they were finally seen.
that someone, for one goddamned second,
was real.
When done with poetry
Report my Irish American journalism
And earth will get literated
When did today's war start
Without Irish ink
The bambinas know no reason well
This you have to bring with your bibles
Body body body
Birth certificate fraudy
Body moving
City be getting down
Civilization didn't just all at once upon humanity burst,
It had to be thought up, and practiced, refined, and rehearsed.
And just when folks finally got the basics down,
They pulled up stakes and moved to town
Because living in caves was the absolute worst.
I’m an Asian
So, I’m civilized!
-Really?
I’m a European; an American white
I’m an Oceania and I’m civilized!
-Really!?
I’m an African
Victim of apartheid
An oppressed black
But, I’m civilized!
-Really!?
I’m a highly educated
Preacher, saint-type motivator
First-class nation of the continent
Aristocratic; elite business tycoon
Yes, only I’m civilized crown
I’m a Muslim; a Buddhist; a Hindu;
I’m a Christian, a Jewish, and a civilized true
I believe in God and holy revelation
I’m religious and a harvester of civilization
I’m an ultra-modernist
I’m a hybrid atheist
I’m the super-food of civilized myth!
-Really!?
-Really!?
-Really!?
Civilization- sneered trade of cultural stage
Famine of fancy in the definitive heritage
All stand on lame peaceful feet to mislead
And invite you to learn from the ownership
Oh! By this word, all are a funny trader
everywhere crawling as hidden viper!
©Mahtab Bangalee/Feb'25
Self-defense mechanisms
take over in times like these …
No matter the provocation
Don’t forget ‘thank you’ and ‘please’
A new day
Without the sonorous
Songs of songbirds
And the bustle
Of busy humans and animals.
The sun struggled to rise,
Struggled to shine,
Weighed down
By the dark couds of July.
The clouds unleashed rain,
The rain drenched and drained
Our knapsack of knowledge.
The iron birds
Could no longer fly,
The medicine men,
The medicine women
No longer know
The cure for our illnesses,
Our civilization collapsed.
The rain
Rained in torrents
And drenched our earth
Devoid now
Of our knapsack of knowledge.
When the heart breaks like a stone,
sometimes we lose our words
just like a pre-civilization mute
and we cry and moan,
in hurt, in anger, and in deepest of pain,
and then we regain
the words, as we put the pieces of our heart
back together,
put on the mask and start to act again.
(11.28.2024)
I barely feel the autumn chill,
as all around me sawdust spills,
my tiny daughter up the hill
waves down, as little children will.
The trees down here have only grown,
blocked out the view we long have known,
by nature’s chaos they were sown
amidst the scattered rocks and stones.
So I cut like those long before,
to see this small vista restored,
it always seems there’s one task more,
to keep the damn wolves from the door.
I want to rest, oh yes, I do,
but time waits not for men, it’s true,
and I’d leave something good for you,
that I and those before me knew…
London people
Londoners are very kind people, people of love, I love all of them
It is good to live with them in this so fantastic world city, Metropol
Metropol, the same as Athens in the old age; culture, civilization
Live here is a great realistic dream, a gift from life; here lives on
London
Love
My life
On
Life is just a game of
breathing in and breathing out.
Keep breathing and keep smiling.
In the name of civilization,
they have made life a competition.
Let us take it as a game,
play well and have fun all along.
Life is not about winning or losing,
it is about living and learning.
More than the victories, failures
teach us a lot and make us wise.
We may think, many are living easy.
May be, we are at the difficult
level of the game and they are
at the easy or medium levels yet.
Life is just a game of
breathing in and breathing out.
Keep breathing and keep winning.
What is going on twigs of trees!
Stillness and tranquility of nature
Twitter of birds, sense of life
Silent Love
Away from industrial screens,
Malicious false.
Farm life
Rich language
Nature.
Human greed
Dragging man to deprivation
From his ancient pure inherent nature of life
To jails made of concrete, rush, and hardship.
Is that civilization and progress?
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