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Liquid
Diamonds
The once green ground of dance,
of
village life and songs,
now the ground of liquid diamonds.
There is no more dance, no song,
no festival, no
celebration,
no farm, no crop,
but the business
of diamonds,
and the diamond man
In this prison cell,
lost to silence,
In this prison cell, lost to silence,
she
sits with her damage innocence,
dreaming of the everyday faces
she does not know.
She sits mirroring the other side
of life,
life in motion; cannot ignore
the things we most
ignore:
The monotony of sunshine,
the greenery of a
leave of grass,
friends that call our name.
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Lost
Poems
In my bid to please the Holy One,
I burnt the
pages
of my poems, saw them silenced
in the pathway
of flames,
smoked upward;
disappeared from the smoke
among the wind, away from the wind;
left me with
words,
unpiecable, like a broken egg.
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The
Temperament of Human Reactions
As Jesus hurries
out of Jericho,
multitude of men, women and children
tail
him Blind Baltimous, son of Timaus,
sitting by the wayside on
an hairless
goat skin, awaiting mannerfall of
good-
Samaritans, hear Jesus passing bye,
raises his voice,
and cries, “Thou Son o' David
“Have mercy on me”.
They try to stop him,
but cries he the more, “Thou Son
of David
“Have mercy on me”. Jesus passing bye
and
hearing stop. all, and those trying to
quiet him, stop, in
strong silence, like a
snapshot. As Jesus turns and look at
blind
Baltimous shaking in expectation
(As if by some
divine remotation,
everyone turns and look at
Baltimous).
Jesus, with his accustomed kindness,
ask
“Batimeus, 'what wilt thou that I should do
unto
thee?'” Batimeus quickly replies,
“Lord, that I
might receive my sight.” Jesus
with air of omnipotence,
said “Thy faith
has made thee whole”. Immediately,
his eyes
regain their sight, his eyelid closing and
opening
as to convey a message,
leaping and shouting “I can see
... can see ...
can see… I see ... ” in motion
that is "joy".
the crowd in glad amazement, shouts,
and jumps,
claps for Batimeus, as if he's a King.
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I
Am Judas of the Bright Age
for Janice Simmon
I
venerate Master,
and no other, never, never
those
words-made-gods.
All the books containing them
I hid, some
I burnt, others I destroyed
from young eyes,
who cannot
discern the Truth,
but pant after and follow like a shoe to a
foot
all doctrines of beauty
and sweetness of
tongue.
Master is a jealous Master.
He taught -- we must
beware of
mixing our minds
with the minds of the pedantic
wolves,
professor sharks and wise hawks,
who dress with
fine cloths
but their hearts and mind
spider webs.
I
disciple to the core,
must live by the law Master had
taught.
I saw the vision
I seized the moment,
did
what the world needed,
to know Master
and no other.
Any
moment from now,
master will come
riding on stead of cloud,
with host of fanfares
announcing His arrival.
It will be
me,
who Master shall delight to honour:
Judas of the Bright
Age.
He will stop and in the glorious shouts
Of the new
day
Beckon me to sit and ride with Him.
We shall ride
through the streets
strewn with all kinds of petals and palm
leaves
while everyone gazes at us.
He will grant that I am
not the traitor
of civilization,
but the heraldry of the
better world.
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