What will he say to these judgeComments closed
in this land sown with hatred and lies?
Kabir will say: Free Umar Khalid!
Kabir will say: Open your eyes!
Poems about the dark times.
I’m schooling myself against hope: This is all too little, too late, but then after this long, lonely day, you text: there’s work to do, come– we have such a very short time, the sun’s left behind a cool breeze, we have such a very short time– I put down this poem and goComments closed
-September, 2021 Just before the downpour, I thought of Umar Khalid, and how many days he’s spent in Tihar jail. Later, the still sky clung to us like a soggy face mask, and we heard the hard, sharp shouts of thin, soaked men; we’re all just mud and water come alive, comrades— Come alive, we have so little time!Comments closed
-after Kabir No matter how often you sweep, dust gathers under your bed, and the TV is loud and shrill; it sounds like thunder and rust— but outside, across the main road, someone has hung out bright clothes, and the tree on the left’s raining birdsong; from its roots rise the scent of spring flowers. They’re sowing division and fear to silence our songs and our prayers; but we’re only here for a moment— let’s sing of bright cloth and love.Comments closed