the day begins, when the cloud blurs the sun,
brushing off blonde rays from my braids, coloured an ocean,
Browsing: poem
faggots rise up to the settlers’ dinner on the criminal Zionist’s war table, still warm, walk into the coloniser’s hotel, and set free a revolt, riot, mutiny
wind clatters on old gums of the sandbank
& red dust crescendos on streambeds.
this is yanggu’s orchestra
a] What you’re telling your friends it is, and what your talks are all about…
“When I do not compromise
I am selfish and time-hoarding.
Chair.
Sit.
Adjust.
Adjust the other side.
No, adjust the other side.
the soft hum of waves echo,
washing over my skin, eyes, mind,
as I slip slowly into the depths of dreaming.
sometimes I am a melting icicle
or glacier; tiny slips drip dripping away,
cascading down cold-blooded cheeks.
How shall I be
One of the great I see
In a world of “men”
Where I am a woman
Your footsteps gone, grass spry before I could ask,
Hold my hand, just this once…