In a Coaltar-black Jungle


You come with a camera slung on your back:
the whole caboodle of it's never been so urbane;
it's our muted past lacerated by a far-off light

but gleams of it glare at our every blinking
and sagas of that conquest do clamour
we stumble before the mocking eye and the flints,

once so innocent, now rumbling at our heels.
Do not ever walk alone in this tar-black night;
nothing's so coaltar-black out there in your place,

for all of you always drizzle lights around.


But here in this jungle where our ancestors,
long-dead, fought all the robbers of light,
this darkness you too robbed of its inner light.

Yes, seething hot with revenge, it hangs around
with all its jaws wide open famished for long:
never can you slip out of its stomach like no planet,

whether be it big or small, ever out of a black-hole.
Boxed in as we often are by its intimate rage,
we still love it like its dear next of kin

despite all your enlightened hardliners' hate.


You hang History inside out like underpants.
Oh, you city-slickers do know next to nothing
about this jungle your haunting afterthought.

You go away with so photogenic our wretchedness
squirting abuses onto us the primordial gang,
your tendency to spread, as of a contagion:

its hardness like genetics of making us dwarfs
in the laboratory where tall tales breed. That's
the sum of your stays a sad fiasco for us.

Do not ever walk alone in this tar-black jungle.

Poetry by Sofiul Azam
Read 1013 times
Written on 2006-10-12 at 18:22

Tags Anxiety 

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text