I hear, a million points of view
Border games on ripped atlas scraps
wandering has pulled me away, and afar
over land and seas,I left behind lost breadcrumbs
bradycardiac, my pulses beat, and I stagger to stand
In hope, at many homesteads
she sets a hot pot of coffee as she wrings her hands
he fills his chocolate jug with spices and anticipates
they sit around a kettle full of kahwa, intending to mourn
silence wearing thin, I howl aloud
roam the streets, into arteries of brick towns
where ruins emerge alive, echoing young lives
ghostly screams of greeting, guffawing at little deaths
danger of separation, palpable in the migrant caravan
bullets pierce broken wings, voices break out of breath
faded eyes loom large over dark tents
banished families, and human parts
nervous air across them all
young and old alike
chaos to chaos, they search
crowd to crowd, they collapse
fatal plunge, to a corner of final rest
pathway to pathway, gamble if you must
dare to lead if you can
your identity and mine
will go down as rubble
no matter which side of a border or wall
into the same water
we will bite the same dust
NaPoWriMo 2018
Bolded words used above are from the Sylvia Plath poem Family Reunion – referenced below
Family Reunion, Sylvia Plath
Outside in the street I hear
A car door slam; voices coming near;
Incoherent scraps of talk
And high heels clicking up the walk;
The doorbell rends the noonday heat
With copper claws;
A second’s pause.
The dull drums of my pulses beat
Against a silence wearing thin.
The door now opens from within.
Oh, hear the clash of people meeting —
The laughter and the screams of greeting :
Fat always, and out of breath,
A greasy smack on every cheek
From Aunt Elizabeth;
There, that’s the pink, pleased squeak
Of Cousin Jane, out spinster with
The faded eyes
And hands like nervous butterflies;
While rough as splintered wood
Across them all
Rasps the jarring baritone of Uncle Paul;
The youngest nephew gives a fretful whine
And drools at the reception line.
Like a diver on a lofty spar of land
Atop the flight of stairs I stand.
A whirlpool leers at me,
I cast off my identity
And make the fatal plunge.
Kashiana 