Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I think that someone wrote into some palm leaf a manuscript, a gift, a contract. After my parents wedding, while they were still in India, they found out that my dad’s father and my mom’s grandfather worked for kings administering temples and collecting money for their king from the farmers that worked the rice paddies each king owned. My dad, a son of a brahmin’s son, grew up in his grandmother’s house. His mother was not a Brahmin. My mother grew up in Malaysia where she saw the children from the rubber plantation when she walked to school. She doesn’t say what caste she is. They both left their homes before they left for college. He went to his father’s house, then college. He went to work, then England, then Canada. She went to India then Canada. They moved to the United States around Christmas 1978 with my brother while she was pregnant with me. My father signed a contract with my mother. My parents took ashes and formed rock, the residue left in brass pots in India, the rocks, so hot, they turned back to lava miles away before turning back to ash again, then back to rock, the lava from a super volcano, the ash purple and red.
0
Apr 28, 2021
Apr 28, 2021 at 12:41 PM UTC
Lava (March 2021)
I think that someone wrote into some palm leaf a manuscript, a gift, a contract. After my parents wedding, while they were still in India, they found out that my dad’s father and my mom’s grandfather worked for kings administering temples and collecting money for their king from the farmers that worked the rice paddies each king owned. My dad, a son of a brahmin’s son, grew up in his grandmother’s house. His mother was not a Brahmin. My mother grew up in Malaysia where she saw the children from the rubber plantation when she walked to school. She doesn’t say what caste she is. They both left their homes before they left for college. He went to his father’s house, then college. He went to work, then England, then Canada. She went to India then Canada. They moved to the United States around Christmas 1978 with my brother while she was pregnant with me. My father signed a contract with my mother. My parents took ashes and formed rock, the residue left in brass pots in India, the rocks, so hot, they turned back to lava miles away before turning back to ash again, then back to rock, the lava from a super volcano, the ash purple and red.
This is part of something I’ve been working on for about five years.
MeenaMenon
Written by
42/F/Santa Monica
Apr 28, 2021
Apr 28, 2021 at 12:41 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem