By S. Bharrat I dreamt that the day of revolution would come; that thousands would storm the city streets screaming for justice. – Mahadai Dass The day for revolution has come and gone and I hear your cry echo the wind that carries nothing but my brother’s silence: mouth sealed shut by his own mud and water. One counterfeit general – his wings … Continue reading On the Twelfth Day
Dear Ian McDonald, As I sit here this cold, grey morning in Craig Old Road my mind and heart and soul wander through the moments you’ve remembered these past decades. I see now, Ian, if I may be so bold, that there comes a time when a girl must rise and burn the leeches from her skin so that she may forge a sword of … Continue reading To Ian McDonald
For our journalists. Yuh tink I like wake up every marnin’ an’ see you? Dat I like lef’ meh house, meh pickanee, meh lil piece in dis cowboy country? Yuh tink dis is how I wan’ live? Dat I wan’ watch dem minista thief? Dat I wan’ watch thief watchin’ thief? Yuh really tink I wan’ hear how yuh beat yuh wife? And how she … Continue reading Reportah Storie
Been thinking of a summer romance in the tropics. Been thinking of creating a galaxy for us, a galaxy built with the bricks of English syntax and fortified with the intricacy of meaning, built for me to be forever with you. I wanna be with you more than I’m with me. But mostly, I’ve been thinking of love and theories of how it happens. Do … Continue reading Do we fall or grow in love?
For days and days, I’ve bled for you. I’ve bled upon a page. From that place deep, deep in me I’ve bled words for you every minute, every hour, every day. And they watch me bleed, quietly waiting, waiting for me to die. But this bleeding, it’s an endless flow of you from me. This is how I know that I can never be empty … Continue reading I’ve bled words for you…