During the Transition, a poem

 During the Transition

The Resistance has begun.

On X the Poetry Foundation

will no longer post any new 

material, opting instead

for good old Facebook

and its child Instagram.

I have used salty words 

about my erstwhile heroes 

still in 1600 Pennsylvania

so help them God.

I am not hawking 

Ten Thousand Steps 

Against the Tyrant

any more although 

I don’t deny the poems. 

Like Jack Smith

the Special Prosecutor

I may leave the scene

before the shit hits

on January 20, protect

myself from the wrath

of the Revenger. How?

With a new set of praise

poems, directed 

at the Grand Wizard,

Pennsylvania Jesus

resurrected in Butler?

Remember that town,

now a place of pilgrimage,

where the campaign 

victory became inevitable, 

the raised fist, Red Road Rage?

Indran Amirthanayagam c) November 28, 2024

Thanks, With An Eye To The Near Term, a poem

Thank you who read these words, 

friends, men, women, children, 

gays, trans, minorities, everybody 

who shepherded this poet 

into the wilderness and out 

again, ensconced and cradled 

in hands, on laps, in hearts. 

in the passenger seat while 

I drove from border town

to watering hole, 

to the city center

to sip cappuccinos, 

nibble cake and sit back 

and smile together

at the surreal stories clowns 

as politicians unfurled 

to bamboozle us 

as we stared catatonic 

at the latest declaration 

of war against our neighbor 

and friend, and war against 

every value our mother 

taught us to believe, 

for the greater good 

and the more fitting society, 

handed over on a tray 

to the Butcher of Queens, 

the Bogey Man of the Tower,

the Quack who says he will stop 

this and that war in the first hour 

on his first day 

(...or the day after..,or never).

Indran Amirthanayagam c) November 27, 2024

REVIVAL; A Poem On the Eve of the U.S. Elections

 Revival

To vote or not to vote, that is not 

the question or the dilemma. Mark 

a ballot for the candidate who 

wants to keep the ship floating 

or the other who wants to crash it, 

both supported by capital, my capital 

against yours, my ads versus your 

deep fakes. There are differences still 

between these two, not only their sexes, 

not only their relationship to laws 

and their administration. Yet, I wonder 

about flaws through which the blood 

of innocents flows, bombed by capital, 

weighing of profit and colonial dominion 

even now in the Age of Independence, 

of post colonial bliss. Surely that blood 

must be honored and from it nourish 

some better, more fitting ecosystem 

without great powers, power blocks 

and communities of interest but finally 

one world, one dream, one song

Indran Amirthanayagam c) All Souls Day, November 3, 2024

Para Silvio

 Para Silvio

     Silvio Santos (1930-2024)

Maravilhosa a mão que Silvio Santos 

estendida, a maneira como dançava 

e sorria, nos fazia rir e chorar de alegria, 

seu generoso apoio a tantos 

jovens artistas que chegavam 

na cidade, aos quais ele deu 

sua primeira chance, de cantar 

para uma multidão 

pessoalmente, na televisão. 

Silvio Santos, que poderia 

ter se tornado presidente 

do país se não fosse 

por algumas falhas burocráticas 

nas assinaturas coletadas 

para registrar seu partido.

A assinatura final 

é a de cada um de nós 

que passamos nossos domingos 

em sua companhia, rindo 

e chorando agora na memória.

 

Indran Amirthanayagam dr 17 de agosto de 2024

BASTA, a poem.

 Basta

“Basta”-- Pope Francisco, November 6, 2023

Basta. Enough. Stop killing

children in Gaza and Israel.

Cease fire. Let leaders wise

or mad, it does not matter.

We have no time for

psychological evaluations.

Let these directors

of the tragedy meet

in a foreign capital

to make peace. Do not

kill innocents anymore.

Stop. Too much. This

is not complicated,

not difficult

to understand

Do not kill new

generations, their 

fathers and mothers. 

Stanch hatred 

rising among 

survivors.

Indran Amirthanayagam c) November 6, 2023

We Did It! a poem about landing on the Southern Pole of the Moon

We did it!

Engineers roar, slap each other's

backs, go gaga as Chandrayaan-3

sends Vikram to land on

the Southern Pole of the Moon

opening to the intrepid Pragyan

that will go a-roaming where

no robot has gone before. This

is a huge step for India, yes,

and for the rest of us as we 

see our kind cross boundaries

that exist only in the mind,

drawing planetary sustenance 

from this feat. Experiments 

the rover conducts will be 

monitored on Earth, adding 

I hope to discussion about 

nations, pride and back-

slapping, that universalists 

beam into our screens now, 

not politicians who ride 

on the coattails of engineers,

who bow for achievements

they cannot embody,

although Mother India

is older than any single

leader, and minorities

of all sorts are to be found

among the Chandrayaan staff.

Indran Amirthanayagam c) August 23, 2023

A Day Of Service (Trump's Booking), a poem. Indran Amirthanayagam

 A Day of Service (Trump's Booking)

He used to be president. He said once

he could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue

and shoot a man and he would walk away

free. Today he was arraigned for paying

off Stormy Daniels to keep quiet about

their past affair while he campaigned

to take the oath and lead the country

through what turned out to be a series

of ruinous events, including the dying

of millions during the pandemic.

He entered court, seeming befuddled,

did not say a word, then left and drove

in a motorcade along the BQE, swept

ahead by the police, to the hangar

where his 757 waited to fly him back

to Florida. Meanwhile, his lawyers

bemoaned the “unfair” charges

while in Washington today a group

of Latin American exiles visited

to plead their arguments about Venezuela,

Nicaragua and Cuba before the OAS 

and State. They came by car from Miami, 

a much longer trip than the rich man Trump's.

I met them at the State Department's

door, allowed them to take a photograph

with the flags, and just outside, to raise

their own banner and denounce tyranny

in their homelands. I felt I had been

of some service, opened the door

to the ordinary citizen, one of whom

had spent almost five years

in a Havana jail, for charges related

to assembly and speech. I am not

a Little Havana republican. But

I will denounce crimes when

committed and without discriminating

against any perpetrator, including

the free-shooting 5th avenue huckster

turned ex Commander in Chief,

Mr. Donald John Trump.

Indran Amirthanayagam, c) April 4, 2023

The Rulers, a poem. Indran Amirthanayagam

 The Rulers

We are teachers today and kids.

We are kids today and teachers.

We are thirteen years old stabbing

our professor in the playground

at Thomasia Montoro public school

in São Paulo. We are twenty eight

years old and female with two

automatic rifles and a handgun

killing three nine-year-olds

and three sixty-somethings

at the Covenant school

in Nashville. What distinguishes

a public from private, state

from religious school? Nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. In each

guns and knives rule.

Indran Amirthanayagam c) March 27, 2023  

Cada seis horas, um poema escrito neste Dia Internacional Da Mulher

 Cada seis horas

A verdade que você sinala

neste Dia Intenacional

da Mulher não tem resposta.

O fato que morre cada

seis horas uma mulher

a mão do seu namorado

no Brasil, um país

que celebra tais misturas

é mais que alarmante

e se eu começo

a inquirir nos diverses

países do mundo

incluindo Estados Unidos

(onde o número diário 

e tres, ainda alarmante)

e alguns outros onde

assassinar a mulher

por respeitar o honor

da família é considerado

um direito. Não.

Não tenho resposta.

Indran Amirthanayagam dr) o 8 março, 2023