"sikh" poems
Zindagi ko jina sikh lo,
Zindagi se ladna sikh lo,
Hausla rakho sabse uper,
Zindagi me jitna sikh lo,
Bana do apni ek alag pahachan,
Naam wahi par kam alag **
Visva me tumhara ** ek alag kirtimaan,
Karke apne kul ko rausan,
hansna aur hansana sikh lo,
Zindagi ko jina sikh lo,
Dikha do duniya ko
Kanto jaisi raho par chalkar,
Pa lo apni manzil ko
Ek misaal bankar,
Etihas ke panno pe
apni pahchan likh do,
Safal hokar jeevan me tum
Zindagi ko jina sikh lo,
Zindagi ko jina sikh lo....
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 7:25 AM UTC
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha sabhi ka samman kiya jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha sabhi logo me ekta hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha atithi ko bhagwan ka darja diya jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha aurato ko devi kaha jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha hindu muslim sikh esai sabhi bhai bhai hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha mata pita ko dharti ke bhagwan mana jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha sabhi log desh ke liye marte hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha mahatma gandhi, Bhagat singh, Subash chandra bose jaise beero ne janam liya tha,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha par sanchai aur ekta mishal hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha ki nadiya sudha jal deti hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jise log bharat ya india kahte hain...
JAY HIND
JAY BHARAT
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 4:34 AM UTC
*a child is born free of mind
but is hardened into thought
and by the time one dies
most are fixed and ******* into
worlds of their making,
heavens of their fantasies*
so one thinks one's an Indian, one a Chinese
or an American or British or Swedish
or French or Russian or German;
or one thinks one is a Christian or Muslim
or Jew or Hindu or Sikh or Catholic
or Doaist or Buddhist or Marxist or Communist
or even for that matter, an atheist
- or whatever you will...
one finds a badge to pin proudly to one's chest
and each identity becomes so strong
it becomes so real
it all comes into the question of right and wrong
of evil and good
and it falls into loud declamations
and my tribe is good, your tribe is evil
my brand is holy, your brand unholy...
and so it goes,
with all sorts of justifications
that beat sense out of all loyal adherents
and it squeezes humanity out of the human
as paste out of a tube...
ah, and yes,
the energy goes on into the afterlife
as Christians go into a Christian Heaven
and Hindus and Buddhists into various Lokas
and Muslims in their own Paradise
and so it goes on,
this Human Tragi-Comedy,
yes, yes, certainly all created by the Almighty
who was created by your mind's poverty
so that
a child is born free of mind
but is hardened into thought
and by the time one dies
most are fixed and ******* into
worlds of their making,
heavens of their fantasies
Oct 22, 2010
Oct 22, 2010 at 7:34 PM UTC
Log Kehte hai jo pyar karta hai...
Wo hi gussa karte hai....
To kya gussa aur beizzat Karne Me...
Wo farak nahi janta hai....
Kisi ke liy pyar Me gussa karna jayas hai....
Par...par...
Kya ush pyar ke naam par ushe jalil karna ulta kehna Abuse karna bhi pyar me jayas hai...
Janab Agar ishe pyar kahte hai to dur hi raho aise pyar se...
Jo khusiyo ke jagah udaasi de...
Khusi ke jagah gum De...
Izzat ke bajae beizzat kare...
Aur last me galti accept krne ke bajae ush glti ko aisa naam de...
Pyar me dono partner ko imp. Dena jaruri hai...
Ek jhuke to ye nahi ki app hmesa ushpe ungli uthao ushe jhukao...
Jb tk wo jhuk rahi thik hai jis din wo ye sochne lagi ki hmesa wo kyu...
To kuch bhi kar loge wo laut ke nahi aaegi....
Waqt se pehle kadar Karna sikh lo..
Aksar hame jiski kadar nahi hoti wo kadar tumhe waqt dilata hai...
Aur tb tak bahut der ** jati hai...
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 4:08 AM UTC
if you drill down,
past the hair,
flesh and bone.
into my mind
where the ego
and id reside.
then turn to the left,
and follow the i.q.
down the alley,
you will find
a place.
where on thrones of
cogitating thoughts,
king big questions asked,
reigns in conjunction,
with, queen yet unanswered.
they watch with interest benign,
over a field of an eternal tourney,
split roughly down the middle
by a chasm quite wide.
on one side
of the gorge is arrayed,
the banners of philosophy.
at the vanguard,
the epistemological knights;
plato, descartes, ferrier,
kant, hume,spinoza
and bosanquet.
the major forces ride beneath the banners, of their schools of thought.
followed by the lesser lights,
and those,
obscure or forgotten,
who walk at the rear,carrying the gear and
to set the tent poles.
as to the other side,
that is given to,
the seminaries of religion;
bhuddism, taoism,
islam, hindu, juche,
rastafarian, sikh, diasporic, parsis, tenrikyo,
judaism and christianity
with all its clans.
they array themselves in cadres,
according to belief.
and to the rear,
there rides,
an interesting guerilla band,
of intertestemantals,
about 3 or 4 hundred years wide.
these are the few who are accounted for,
when god spoke nothing,
or perhaps
a lot but the message just got lost.
they number in their disparate clan,
alexander the great, ptolemy, the hellanic masses, seluecids, maccabeans, hasmoeans
and pompey the great,
not all, but the noteworthy.
across the divide,
by arrowing thought
were fought rallies of acumen
and battles of wit
and occasionally,
a persipacious fire was lit.
but there is one more player,
to mention.
apathy,
the great hulking ******
who for want of gumption, and get up and go,
sat crouched,
(quite uncomfortably so)
on a spire.
made of mediocracy,
cemented by woe,
in the iddle of the rifted abyss.
unable to decide
with which team to go.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
two Americans and three Indians
Came to my house.yesterday.
Four of them were men
And one of them a woman
They were all shedding blood
I asked the Americans , “ What
Happened to you?” Our fellow
White Americans fired at us”
Why? “I asked most innocently”
They said, ‘we fought indiscrimination
Against the blacks and for their equality”
I asked the Indians, Why are all bleeding?
“The religious fanatics belonging to our
Religion fired at us’ .The two Indian men said.
A Sikh fanatic shot at me indiscriminately”
He was my own body Guard too.”
The Indian woman said painfully.
Coincidentally all the five came
From the two great democracies
Democracy means” killing the
Great leaders and shedding their blood.”
I woke up from the dream
But I had the great opportunity
Of talking to five noble souls
Mar 1, 2011
Mar 1, 2011 at 7:35 PM UTC
To die,
To fall,
To lose,
In an act of,
Life-giving,
Spirit lifting,
Victory,
Is simply,
Nonsensical,
And yet,
Perfect,
Completely,
Irrational,
And yet,
Thought out,
And so,
Incomprehensible,
With human mind,
But absolutely,
And definitely,
The right thing to do,
Because God loved the world so much,
He would let his own creation,
Take his only son from him,
To save his creation,
From the hands of evil.
And the best thing?
The most amazing and inconceivable thing of all,
Is that he did it for all mankind.
Athiest
Agnostic
Christian
Jew
Muslim
Sikh
Hindu
Buddhist
Black
White
Straight
Gay
Lesbian
Bisexual
Asexual
Boy
Girl
Bigender
Transgender
Agender
Young
Old
Kind
Cruel
Happy
Sad
Rich
Poor
Healthy
Ill
Free
Enslaved
Safe
Afraid
Intelligent
Stupid
Deaf
Blind
Disabled
Handicapped
Single
Taken
Married
Divorced
Remarried
Widowed
Lost
Found
Persecuted
Persecutor
Murderer
Self-harmer
Suicidal
Unloved
Adored
Popular
Ignored
Beautiful
Ugly
Guilty
Innocent
Outcast
Desperate
Autistic
Bulimic
Alcoholic
Bipolar
Addict
Dyslexic
Anorexic
Schizophrenic
SAVED
Every single human being ever born is saved.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
Tu durr gaya to Kya
Mere rooh me
Tu basa hai..
Pata nahi
kab wapas aayega
Par mere har Rastey par,
har mod par
Tu hai...
Insaan alag hai
Par Meri ankhe
humesha tujhe
dhundti hai..
Pata to nahi sapne
Haqikat me
badalte hai ya nahi..
Par ab sapne me
hi jeena thoda
Sikh liya hai..
Tujhe dekhne ki
aadat hai Hume
Aadat to
chhutne sey Raha..
Ab tujhko
khudme pane ka
aadat hume
lag chuka hai..
English Translation-
So what?
You are away
But you reside within
My soul..
I don't know yet
When you will come back
But in every path
In every crossing
You are there
To accompany me..
People are different
Yet my eyes
seek for
only you..
I do not know
Whether dreams
come true?
But now
I have learnt to
Jump into the pool
Of my dreams
With you..
To see you
Has become
one of my habit
Which will
Neither leave..
Now
you are rooted
within me,
Has become
My best habit
of all times!
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 4:27 PM UTC
This is about my beloved physiotherapist.
He tried his best to help me recover quick.
And today the initial period is reminiscent.
Dr. Amrinder Singh Kaler,
My generous physiotherapist,
Has a rather rare surname.
I used to enquire his name,
As I was extremely curious,
Much like a kid I had been.
Brain injury took heavy toll,
Severely quick memory loss,
At times I used to forget it all.
All day long I was apprehensive & confused,
Scared I remained thinking of physical pain,
I would ask them if someone would come.
I would ask him his name during therapy,
My memory was extremely short & poor,
I slowly learnt his first & second names.
But I would still ask him his surname,
I was not be told straight away by him,
He told me to strain my mind & guess it.
To tell him his own name was not easy,
Especially when I was so much in pain,
It was so much difficult for me to tell it.
But after few months' passage,
It didn't pain much to exercise,
As much as when I was worse.
I found it difficult to recall his surname,
I did say several Sikh surnames to him,
I would say all surnames but his own.
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
Hey you with the beard, are you Muslim?
Why does it matter what ever you believe?
You who wears the cross, are you a Christian?
What does it say about you?
Are you honest are you true?
Do you follow the commandments laid down by your lord?
You with turban on, are you a Sikh?
What are you hunting?
Hey you in the short skirt with makeup layered thick,
Are you ******
Tell us quick.
We need to know.
You in the chair with wheels on.
How did you get there?
Unless you choose to tell us we shouldn't care.
Need to make judgements?
You in the cassock,
Are you a bishop?
Chick in the habit, are you a nun?
Could just be fancy dress,
A hen party.
A nun on the run.
You with ebony skin...
Are you that different to me ?
I think not.
Gay guys and lesbians, transgender guys,
transgender chicks.
Think before throwing sticks and stones.
And breaking bones.
Words hurt.
Under the skin the being within...is HUMAN.
Attitudes decided by images externally.
Be who you want.
Just gotta be free.
Does it change the person inside?
Think of these questions before you decide.
(c)Livvi MMCV
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 4:37 AM UTC
We live in a country,
where people are respected.
We live in a country,
where people 's unity.
We live in a country,
Where the hotel is supposed to be god.
We live in a country,
Where women are like goddess worship.
We live in a country,
Where hindu muslim sikh and christians are all brothers.
We live in a country,
where parents are considered to be the god of the earth.
We live in a country,
where all people have to die for the country.
We live in a country,
Where subash chandra, Azad and Bhagat singh was born as braves.
We live in a country,
Where truth and honesty is a precedent.
We live in a country,
Where the rivers are provide pure water.
We live in a country,
where the flag is always undulate.
we live in a country,
Those who call india.
JAY HIND JAY BHARAT
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 3:49 AM UTC
We are stopped for special checks
At TSA and immigration
We are murdered
In our house of worship
Six innocent lives lost
Oak Creek Gurdwara, 2012
Racial slurs hit our hearts:
Sand ******
ISIS
Towel head
Out of fear
We stop wearing our beautiful salwar kameezes, lenghas, saris, and kurta pajamas
In colors and embroidery your clothes could only ever dream of
We take off our crowns you call turbans
And replace them with baseball caps
We think twice about speaking Punjabi,
Our mother tongue,
Around those that don't recognize it
We stop packing our grandma's handmade saag and roti
To school for lunch
And start eating
Processed Lunchables
We separate into two people
Our American selves
And our Punjabi selves
Almost never does anyone meet both
All because
You don't know
The difference
Between a Sikh and a terrorist
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 1:07 PM UTC
El Mirador
The Sikh man on the the rooftop balcony,
tells me if I have any problems in this city,
to come and see him,
and he will deal with it,
he’s serious,
and he’s loving,
and his black eyes reflect,
against the black streeted city,
in a way that leaves no doubt,
upon my incensed mind,
we are in,
a Belizean town,
on the Guatemala border,
it’s late the moon is there,
as She always is such a trusted companion,
the balcony smells,
of humid resentment,
there is a sleepy nostalgia,
blowing through the air,
everything looks misty,
tomorrow I depart for Flores,
then to El Mirador,
the largest pyramid in the world,
waiting for me to explore,
I have a few days,
found some extra time,
between flying to NYC,
then flying to Milan,
to find my way to El Mirador,
it’s a six day hike from Flores,
this is something that’s calling me,
told you before I’m a traveler not a tourist,
I’m packing my bags,
getting ready for another trip,
my business is straight,
and my 5th book is almost finished,
which gives me a few days to breathe,
to hike into the jungles in respect of the pyramids,
and I was packing my bags and getting everything ready,
when I decided to take a break and step out onto the balcony,
where to my surprise I found a man,
sitting in the dark,
resting in the infinite,
space of time and thought,
and when I discovered him,
he began to speak,
he told me he’d come from Amritsar,
and that he was a Sikh,
Seek and Ye shall find,
so I go with God,
and get back to getting ready,
for my trek to El Mirador.
— ∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆ —
The H Trilogy
Volume 1
7/7/16
∆
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 9:18 PM UTC
(Preta प्रेत (Sanskrit) or Peta (Pāli) is the name for a type of (arguably supernatural) being described in Buddhist, Hindu, Sikh, and Jain texts that undergoes more than human suffering, particularly an extreme degree of hunger and thirst. They are often translated into English as “hungry ghosts”, from the Chinese, which in turn is derived from later Indian sources generally followed in Mahayana Buddhism.)
The series of blurs that was summer 2006 makes me wonder what kind of evils we committed in past lives. What otherworldly desires plagued us with this need to feed upon the surging tidal wave of young blood? The days from May 16th to August 23rd were black mirror images, indiscernible. I kept the 1997 Honda Accord running, tapping my fingers to the beats of Built to Spill on the dashboard, waiting for you outside your father’s newly constructed home on ice. You would bleed forth, blue sun light reflecting off windows to face like an eight point filter. What we did with the day mattered not. It was as important to us as the script of action flicks. We were the only people that we wanted to know and we were the places that we wanted to go. The day lived and died, as the nighttime was when our karma sprung curse would take us. Turn off blurred screens, ignore details of the war, pull the hatch shaded curtains tight. We shared a bed in which we did not sleep, bodies silent, blaring alarms. The same hungry ghosts feeding and choking on ash all night. We burned out, successful slow turns into frail husks. It was then that we couldn’t get full anymore, we realized that we fit like clothes made out of wasps. It hasn’t gotten better for either, a ghoul roaming in the night, hunting for the next lay like a record skipping. We will asphyxiate on stones or have our throats burned by water. Hopefully we’ve suffered enough to respawn into more advanced forms. I hope I see you in the next life as anything else.
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 7:16 PM UTC
Maine Dard chhupana bhi sikh liya,
Gum me muskurana bhi sikh liya,
Ye kuchh Zakhmo ka hi asar hai
Jo aaj,
Teri ruswai ko bhi wafa samjh liya,
Jise maine apni parchhai smjh liya,
Usne hi es nasamjh dil ko ghayal kar diya,
Kal tak jinhe dekh muskurate the hum,
Aaj usne hi mujhe bewafa bna diya...
Mujhe Bewafa bna diya ...
Manish....✍
Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
A cyclist in a purple turban and salwar pants
whizzed past us as we trudged up the steep hills
of Arlington, Virginia
His gaze caught mine
just a starry
flash in the bucket
wordless soul communion
that said so much
Do you know what religion he is?
queried my hubby, David
"Sikh...I think" still reflecting
on our brief exchange
David and I were in town for our niece's wedding
and also on vacation
enjoying the sights and plethora
of attractions that flourish in the capitol
city, Washington, DC
As I surveyed the beautiful capitol
abounding with lush gardens, parks,
magnificent magnolia trees and
fragrant pink and white crepe myrtle
I couldn't help observing the rich diversity
of people and cultures working and living
here
"Where are you from?" I asked our taxi driver
"I'm originally from Ethiopia,"
a waiter in a restaurant told us
he was from Morocco...another person from Egypt...
India...China and so on…
USA has a diverse topography
heavenly mountain ranges, verdant forests,
fruitful farmlands
span outward to luminous blue shores
The racial, political, cultural diversity of our
great nation is what makes us so
unique and special
It's in our DNA, and literally in mine,
a real melting ***
All Americans have one thing in common:
our thirst for liberty and freedom
These words from the Memorial of Abraham Lincoln
are brilliant with truth and timeless with love:
"I leave you, hoping that the lamp of liberty
will burn in your bosoms until there shall
no longer be a doubt that all men are
created free and equal." ~Lincoln
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
A bearded Sikh is practicing
his faith, you'll say
but a bearded Muslim is
extremist and has gone astray.
A pious nun can be covered
from head to toe
but a covered Muslim girl
is oppressed you know.
Respect for western woman
when she stays at home to look her child,
same is done by Muslim woman
then from outer world she is exiled.
In schools and colleges
semi **** girls are allowed
but with unjust laws
a covered Muslim girl is scared and cowed.
A Jew kills someone then case
against a criminal is filed.
but when a Muslim does any crime
then Islam goes under trial.
For acts of ******
Christianity is not blamed
then why with every bomb blast
hatred against Islam is flamed.
When a Palestinian takes gun against oppression
terrorist you shout and call
but when blood is spilt for oil and wealth
why your voices are not heard at all.
when an imperfect driver bangs a perfect car
no sane blames the car.
then why for vicious acts of few Muslims
Islam is put behind bars.
O media! O world!
why you hate why you detest.
against this double standards
I voice my strong protest.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC
Chalo aaj kuch naya sikh lete hai!
Jis vakt ko roz dhoondha karte the vo mil hi gaya hai,
To Chalo aaj kuch naya sikh lete hai!
Har roz jis shauukh ko bolte the yaar vakt hi nahi tere liye,
Chalo aaj use bhi kuch vakt de dete hai!
Har baar kisi ko unsuna kar dete the yah keh k ki yaar vakt nahi hai,
Use bhi thoda sa aaj kuch sun lete hai!
Kisi ke kaam mein hath bata lete hai thoda sa,
Ya kisi ke saath yuhi kuch der baith jate hai,
kabhi jo tumhare waqqt ka intezar karte the,
Chalo aaj unhe bhi pura waqt de dete hai!
Fir shuru ** jayegi zindagi, to fir wahi kahenge ki vakt nahi mere paas,
To aaj jo waqt mila hai use thoda sa jee lete hai,
Chalo aaj kuch naya sikh lete hai!
Jun 1, 2020
Jun 1, 2020 at 2:39 AM UTC
did you know that the sikh temple
karamsar gurdwara
(in ilford) was built by slaves?
yeah, they were bribed
into coming to england
with hopes of a wife and passport...
they built the ****** thing, they did,
worked for pay of lodgings and
food... then they were sent back to
kashmir... the cement wasn't dry when
it happened...
one man spoke out...
so did the sikhs of conscience...
but they said **** about the muslims.
i love it... it's like the white skin of eastern
or northern europe was never intended
to be equal to the likes of colonial ********
and what the colonial ******** learned:
**** ex **** hoc fecit:
don't worry, you can relearn latin,
just mind the prepositions and the inverse
grammar structures worth a translation.
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
I don't have epilsepsy
but I almost did
Gazing upon illuminated radiance I could not understand
one side shown favored, and another was darker
It only makes sense in sips and gulps
So do I drink it slowly
But if I ever chug, I decompose
into chaotic spin! -- the many elements that make me
Further I down the tea, the more love is apparent
God I love my lover, and through her, the world!
Or is it the other way around? I don't know
A wise Sikh once told me there isn't much difference
As he said this, he was holding his golden spear
His knuckles dusty, skin drawn taught against his bones
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
*currently poland has a catholic conservative organising party of power, which means you'll get great pop hits like: africa by t.o.t.o. in clamour karaoke format... kara oke... new form of hara kiri... get that ******* mike into the wheat fields and bury it! so inventing new japanese phrasing... KARA OKE means plagiarising a song so so hard, that arteries start bulging out of your neck... which makes sense to never spot it on opera singers... because they're bubbly bubbles phat... pass me the hairbrush... i'm about to shing in the singing cubicle of running water.*
there's a reason why
rock stars et al.
are famous...
they're basically crowd
control, crowd control
stewards, pacifiers
of the mob who have
a guillotine hidden
under one girl's skirt...
and aristocrats don't like
that... no precious...
so now in encore all together:
CLAP IF YOU'RE HAPPY
CLAP HAPPY CLAP IF YOU'RE HAPPY;
****** my pants i did,
thinking it out... feels good
to not feel jealous about
such professions designated a stage
and a thank you speech,
but oddly enough such crowd
control professions attract the biggest
dross of jealousy...
while the one hundred and ten year old
sikh guy keeps jogging, at his age so fast,
that his turban falls off...
no one's jealous of him;
he's got twenty great-grandchildren
and i'd rather be jealous of that...
the definite concentration of mortality
extending into a comparative blink of a god.
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 10:28 AM UTC
Peace for Christmas
is what I want the most
there are plenty of glasses around here to toast
make wishes for love and light in your life
peace is what I believe Christmas defines
Forget your religion, it matters for nothing
I want to make my Christmas wish matter for something
So whether Christian, Muslim, Buddhist or Sikh
Jewish, atheist, Pagan, Hindu or simply unique
let peace be the binding factor that we humans all seek
for we are all one skeleton, with the potential for peace
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
A person with a turban and long hair
That is how people locate us
But we are lot more than that...
It's our values and the teachings of Guru Granth Sahib
that make us shine bright!
As Guru Nanak Dev Ji gave us the value of Vand Chakko,
We can't discriminate because
Guru gave us the value of Langar
where everyone sits together to have food in Gurudwaras
without consideration of caste, creed, race or gender.
All we know is that the blood of all humans is red
And that reason is enough for us to treat everyone equal.
We have been nurtured with the values of Kirt Karan and Naam Japan.
That keeps us on the right path of hard work.
Gurbani flows in our blood.
Our Guru made us strong!
As Guru gobind Singh ji said," The one who goes through injustice is wrong but the one who sees injustice is worst!"
So neither we take it nor we see it!
Everytime we say Waheguru...we believe God is one.
Our beautiful long hair are a symbol of our faith...
Which are covered by tubans that are not only mere
pieces of cloth...
But make us Kings and Queens.
Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 1:53 AM UTC
the day my cat was about to die
i was in poland, visiting my grand-parents,
then i became psychotically nervous
and asked my parents to be flown back
to england, i had all goosebumps eeriness
on me, they didn't allow me,
my sikh neighbour was taking care of
the cat, a sadistic ***** who on any given
opportunity would whip her husband,
the cat's name was Oscar, a grey maine ****
days later my parents returned from their
holiday in the maldives, the cat was dead,
died of kidney failure, he had a heart condition,
but cats that have kidney problems
live for years to come, they **** very slowly
as if they have prostate cancer than narrows the
****** oesophagus ;
the cat used to be cared for by my hebrew neighbours
and was fine, but then this sikh ***** took care
and in my post-mortem analysis killed my companion:
take away the descriptive elements of a person,
whether religion, ethnicity and you're racist to be honest,
you bleach people, leave me and my vocabulary intact
before you turn into a **** english teacher:
leave people intact for descriptive language, o.k.?
but you know what i did afterwards?
the cat was toast turned into ash,
sat on a shelf in a cardboard urn for a long time.
but you know what i did after?
i marched into a world war i memorial ground,
where a graveyard was once,
now like a hebrew graveyard with the gravestones stacked
back-to-back... i took a croquet trolley,
a hammer, and a chisel.. and there in the graveyard
hammered each grave to wake the dead,
until i hammered at one long enough to hack
off a piece of it with writing, wrapped it in
a black bin bag, put it on the croquet trolley
and wheeled it off... and then in the moonlit night
with shovel dug a shallow grave,
in the garden, opened the cardboard urn of remains,
scattered some into the dirge hole,
closed the urn's lid, and put it in,
covered the remains with dug-up earth,
and then placed the gravestone on the dug-up site.
mother inquired what i'd done with the ashes,
i told her... walk to the back of the garden
and see the gravestone.
once too in the same memorial grounds
i took a rock cross and put it on my shoulder,
walked with it, and put it at the foot
of the memorial where enforced memorisation
of the 1914 genesis took to a public spectacle
of where poppy wreaths are laid,
and i put the stone gravestone crux over
a poppy wreath - it must have weighed about 40kg
if not more: a roll of roofing felt weighs about as much.
but i buried my cat, and that's that.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 10:22 AM UTC