LEONARD DABYDEEN
A Migrant’s Path
This journey of
hope
where darkness
is full of
dreams
and light brings
joy
like a new born
child
theirs are
silent voices
speaking without
tongues
networking
with shrieks of
emotions
how they trek
this journey
listening to
harsh footsteps
speaking to
naked brushes
crisp as
sunlight
tumble weed
and blunted
stones
one group
craving thirst
wrestling faith
one migrant
facing undaunted
death
yet daring to
die
where there is
no rhyme
or rhythm
for survival.
uncaring of
slurs
or shameful
taunts
do not call them
dogs
nor monkeys
their calves are
not cantaloupes
for your putrid
tongue
relentless is
their journey
hope is their
beaming star
their every
footprint
is like light
that brings joy
to a newborn
child.
Arrival
Splash of water
plummeting
in the roaring
wind,
angry waves
wandering
in the crevices
of salted wounds
as the Hesperus
heave and sigh
in the Atlantic
adventure;
frail hands
shiver in
fright,
mingling
uncertainty
for an arrival
without time:
indentureship
is a journey
feasting angrily
inside the
heart.
I Have Nurtured In Sight
I have nurtured
consistency in sight
Of mind’s eyes,
through viable looking glass;
I have pierced
deeply, and with all the might.
I have seen
machinations, many crass;
Some being core
truth, always noteworthy.
And I’ve allowed
myself to bow, take a pass.
I’ve heard young
women screaming for mercy;
Drunken fathers
yelling, mindless, cruel.
Mothers bearing
agony, “Please help me”.
I heard of
daughters being raped: fuel
For Nirbhaya
woman on cold, dark night;
Life of Pi
changed so much in the jewel.
I refrain from
understanding what’s right
I have nurtured
consistency in sight.
LEONARD DABYDEEN
No comments :
Post a Comment