What's Next, a poem. Indran Amirthanayagam

 

What's Next?

We are not going to give the fellows a pass with expressions of condolence,

minutes of silence, then off they go to the NRA Convention in Houston

while leaving instructions to block the latest attempt to forgive student loans,

increase funds for Covid tests, fund food stamps, allow a woman the right

to choose, and ban littering in national parks, or force the wearing of masks.

I am tired and hungry, friends, repeating the litany, naming all the blockages,

scrimmages, jostling and gerrymandering, mouthing off and filibustering

that we call a democracy. We must ban guns outright. Eliminate any sacred

or sacrilegous right to bear them hidden or not in public. Can you imagine

that Texan law allows for this? That the deranged eighteen-year-old murderer

of nineteen kids and two teachers did not have to account for the guns he used –

albeit against the law by stepping on to school grounds--to massacre and remind

us that we have so much to do to heal first and then build this democracy

to assure the safety of all who live here, so help us God.

Indran Amirthanayagam, c) May 25, 2022

This Time, a poem. Indran Amirthanayagam

 This Time

Horror, foul murder. butchering children, this America always

with us, kept in news clips, remembered where I found myself

the day the music...and all the accumulated rage about innocents

in America, Asia, Europe ,Australia, Africa, will they ever get

justice? Why allow killers to arm? Abbott, do you not feel

any remorse, responsibility as governor letting murderers

roam with handguns, rifles, shot guns, automatic weapons

in your state which has suffered at least three mass killings

over the last two years? When will they stop? Will they ever

stop? Will you at least leave your office and allow somebody

else to ban the sale of guns by executive order? Will all senators,

governors and congressmen who have shouted for the right

to bear arms receive the pink slip at some future ballot box?

How can we clean house of millions of fire arms and fiery

mouths, bragging, blathering blowhards? How can this

poem reach all possible decisionmakers, from school boards

to police chiefs to politicians and judges? How can it be

read on the agenda of the Supreme Court? God, can we make

a difference now, finally, once and for all, find justice and create

a safer, resilient democracy in the United States of America?

                        Indran Amirthanayagam, c) May 24, 2022

Middle East Encounter, a poem: Indran Amirthanayagam

Middle East Encounter

Seeds were roasted on za'atar and grape leaves stuffed

with sweetmeats. Falafel balls rolled on the platter

and hummus and babaganoush sloshed patiently

in bowls as we dipped pita bread and talked of atrocities

from the eternal front, but we spoke with joy as musicians

shook tambours and beat drums, as dancers raised hands

and swirled in front of us, and on arriving home you sent

me the latest articles, what Sunday scribes opined and

human rights groups, their press releases, even the U.N.

chief calling for investigation knowing that a vote

in the Security Council would be vetoed by one

or more of the permanent members. We know

the ritual. We know the score. But we go on,

exhausting all civil means, calling on morality,

shame, writing poems, appealing to the conscience

of presidents and prime ministers, that they insist

on unearthing truth, from where the errant or targeted

bullet came, and who must now take the blame.

Indran Amirthanayagam, c) May 15, 2022

Woman In A Field, Indran Amirthanayagam ( inspired by "Where the Wildflowers Grow" by Victoria Twomey

 

Woman In A Field

I want to paint your sky blue skirt spotted

with hundreds of white islands, ocean on land

before a primrosed field, grass green, hair

a flame, talisman beside my keyboard, gift

received. I thank you now, and dream of

a world beyond my own eyes, of essences,

sky,water, woman, primroses, grass. I say

the peace that came dropping slow drops

for me as well as I gaze on poppies, butter-

cups next to primroses. I can catch them all

in a net of wildflowers, and you how shall

I name your abandon before field and sky wearing

the ocean on your body? How shall I turn away?

Will you walk with me reading these lines?

Indran Amirthanayagam, c) May 5, 2022