#nothingingness

nothingness is the air around you
nothing really
no colour. no great noise.
but cant do without. this nothingness.



nothingness are vast open spaces.
no traffic . no houses for miles.
a wary stillness. like life dozing ,
toes curled up.

nothingness is essentially all good deeds
hidden goodness. never recognised
unproclaimed love, silent prayers
a lot of toil, honest sweat.

all nothingness. lost you say
marching silently into the night.
nay, its never lost. love and pain and honest sweat
fills all the spaces between us and in us.

so pour some more
fluild love.
for today and tommorow to breathe in.
and some for the yeserdays to live in.

#oh maria

maria, paan stained , two toothed smile
maria in rusting white mundu
maria rushing in like a prophetess,
singing her psalms aloud
(when maria had a glass of toddy too many)



maria , mother of twelve
maria, wife of the coffin maker
maria, child bride at twelve
maria , my grandmother's maid

maria comes calling on christmas eve
for fried chicken and rum
maria drops in every other day
just to see the her "family"

maria, came to town
a child on her father in law's shoulder
maria,huddled under my grandmother's bed
when the coffin maker was drunk

sit awhile with maria
feel her soft white tresses
hold her shaking hand
and dip gently into her memories

the night of the storm
when the mango tree was struck by lightning
and my grandmother sitting stubbornly on the verandah
waiting for my father to come home from drama rehearsals

maria says there was always a lit latern
before the break of day
under it my grandmother toiled like a farmhand
while her sons were in medical school

and maria talks of grandfather's first wife
and how he mourned her when she died at fifteen
maria says he could never forget her
and my grandmother only had her sons and the land to love

maria cant go on for long
memories of the dead coffin maker, her sons
and her homeless state break her story
and she sobs.

heaven must be place made for souls like maria
waiting
with lots of toddy and familar faces .
heaven a home
with her coffin maker and my stubborn grandmother.

all yours

the heavens are yours,
this earth is yours
reach up and feel your crown
for you are royalty
you are heirs
to the most precious gift of life

living in the third world

this girl
she has coconut husk hair
she'd be pretty if she had a bath
scrubbed clean
she must be 15 or so
she's with some boys
settling a fight
she's biting, holding him
like she knew him like a woman

she's pushed aside
hurled on th ground, slapped


its painful
to watch this kid
forced open into womanhood
you can smell her from the other side of the road
and you know you are living in the third world


because you didn't stop
you didn't shelter her from blows
and you drive away