Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Distances - a poem in two parts

{part 1}

{part 2}

Distance is a difficult tongue
hard to learn, like most things after 30
Despite the mispronounced and misunderstood words
I find myself persevering

I take careful notes
of things that convey distance
of things that may lessen them
I find myself measuring the spaces

Between the faithful's forehead
and a prayer mat
Between a teacher's anxiety
and a student's success
Between the change in a schoolboy's pocket
and the samosawalah outside the gates
Between one casual insult
and a well-thought out spite 
Between the mother's breast
and her wailing infant's mouth
Between promises made in good faith
and realities that rendered them false

I learn how to wait
and find ways to ford the distance
between the day we decided it wouldn't work
and today, when we know that nothing else will

Friday, February 03, 2017


Ten floors down is a bed of flowers
You know they don't seem too far
I can almost smell them up here on the ledge
So sweet, they're almost pungent.
Like love. Everything's like love.

The wind brings crazy things with it
along with the smell of roses..
that teen next door's angry music, 
a hawk with a half-eaten rat,
the noise of neighbours who have loud sex.

Today I'm hoping it'll bring me more
than just its bag of cheap tricks
a little quietude? Perhaps some sleep?
I haven't really slept since you left.
All I do is dangle my feet in this nothingness

Ten floors down is a bed of flowers
I remember you loved looking at them
And that's all I have left of you - a view of the roses
That's all I think I'll keep of you
What's that I hear you say? Jump?