Poems from an Emirati Earth Whisperer
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Posted by Bu Thyab
The Earth is in me and in me it produces fissure lines
Denoting the aging process where
Redness and volcanic ruptures
Disturb the environment.
The body heals and repairs and the crust joins together
With reinforced concrete just enough
To make the Earth a place
At a certain age I was taught gardening and did grow my first tree
And then as easy as it was I produced
A magnificent botanical garden
Soon to become a wild forest.
Lumberjacks invaded my forest but my soul – an environmentalist –
Fought for it and these battles became seasons
Where in summer Lumberjacks win
But in winter Soul returns victorious.
The wind’s name showed up short but hidden and difficult to master
It engulfed those who are close to me
To show them the true beauty
Of gravity and core.
So when the wind goes over mountains, into valleys of water and lava,
Then rising and rising into the sky amongst the stars
like a falcon soaring over a nearby village,
Crying at my soul for serenity.
The continents on my hand move ever-so-slightly. It grows. It atrophies.
Like mountains and limestone edge-cliffs. And soon–
Maybe too soon, new earthquakes erupt
To produce new fissures on my crust.
And all of this is due to new positioning powered by underground
Myocytic engineered structures, which somewhat
Similar to the islands and continents
They do hypertrophy and shrink.
Now that Earth has made itself into the self of me I have nothing
To add or subtract, divide or multiply. The only thing I
Can do is go back to Earth as I once was:
United with sand and dust.
And as pale as my crust can be only silence is what I utter,
In total emptiness to few who reject,
In darkness to many who deny,
But to me blessed in lightness.
Sunday, 5th of May 2013
Labels: Life and Death
Posted by Bu Thyab
You showed me this land of prison
And to you I idolised many humans
Amidst the burning horizon I camp in that wild town
They gave me papers to which songs sang
This land has produced many storms and you
Shared your charming mad laughs and
Forever have drawn people beheading gods with
Swords and spears – yet you have lived in stillness
When I was approached by the delicate wind on
Top of hills swaying the desert trees melodiously free
I saw the happiness in me on you
And the still to come grasslands beyond scorpions
But only then will you have shown me the intricate song
Of elders shining relics on top of dunes so clear
That if taken inside – doomed to take within
If not for the sands in my mouth
There is a path which riddle your mind
To speak of the past forever
But then the idols silence its followers
And in that desert drown and misshape to become
A season though the wind comes again
Singing to me the words of a beautiful lady
Where windmills were sent into dusts and now I step
Into the wildest dreams of man
You have foretold a space in time
Pillaging crowns and thrones in caves of bears
And beauty has only shown the sun how to touch the moon
When night was surrounded by clouds
You moved into the prison to show
Us of the past and of the camels on sand travel
Even if I have known when to leave
Left in hurry to return
What of citadel was it made? A person to be executed
Or of me what to become? And where to escape?
But of those destroyed gods men resurrected
To demoralise and delude the demented
If yet – there is – in me – the land – surrendered
The desert’s glorious historical wars
Noted in torn pages or even burnt
To never mention our wound?
As if I have become a statue
Thrown in ancient tombs to never be heard
To never be seen with a staff and a crown
But shaped into caverns separated into darkness
Love from me to this land, what mad pursuit?
Not the eyes see but if not just to see
And not the ears hear but if not just to hear
Lovers imprisoned in our land
Faerie tales and floral essences and no rhymes
Will it ever show us the shapes of mortals?
What has become of them and of the forlorn lands?
How my hard-rock mindless shape haunts the
Temples of Palenque or the mounts of Ulug Depe,
Or the valleys of Arcady or the dunes of Barsha?
The pious have written
And I was given tablets and papyrus
The desert blossoms a tree of infinite grace and unity
Whilst yearning a day to pass without storms
Locks unlock silencing the overpowered
Forest to overgrow branches suffocating the infamous
Sacrificing the heads of tribes and meadows to water
Harvesting for next week and today be a spirit
Rising ocean storms and thunder this desert
To once more beget a man with a soul
Monday, 18th of March 2013
Posted by Bu Thyab
Arr Arr Arr in the dark black night,
Swinging swords at the foe left and right,
Boarding ships taking loot and their cannon,
Sending gifts, fresh fruits, with a blasting wagon,
Mwa-ha-haa and we found that map,
Docked on the coast then we take a nap,
Bells at dawn ring ring ring ring,
Look for gold and hear us sing,
Let us walk and take our axe,
Pick those pearls and the chests on your backs,
Hell erupted on the mount,
Leaving the island gems to count,
In our cabins smelling our gold,
This is the story the witch foretold,
She has a hair like that of a snake,
Shelves of potions and a toxic cake,
In the centre a giant pot,
Eyes so big and a greenish snot,
Mixed so well that you can smell,
And that is one of many a spell.
Arr Arr Arr in the ocean storm,
Captain stands and starts to inform,
Grabbing gear and fixing holes,
Few do drown so blessed their souls,
Ancient ruins under the sea,
Holes in skulls you have to see,
Skeletons are lying around,
Majestic ship with a staff and a crown,
Deep we dive and deep we go,
Forlorn stories we may not know,
And so we search for coins to seize,
Except we found a room full of cheese,
Cheddar, camembert and Danish blue,
Royal tastes we have to accrue,
Back to our ship to see them fight,
Until we saw their flag was white,
And so the marines lost so bad,
Tying the chief turned him mad,
What a waste of such warriors,
We, pirates, are superiors,
Now we have time in our hand,
Let us sail in seas so grand,
We need supplies and we need to rest,
Inn of the coast our option’s best,
Two starry nights for fifty bucks,
Morning tea with toast and ducks,
Noble men is who we are,
Shining like the polar star,
Arr Arr Arr in lush prairies!
Stumbling upon some faeries!
This tale no one will believe,
Except the fat nerds so naive,
I cannot tell what we knew,
What we did or what she drew,
Or how many years I have left,
Or of bad kings who have theft,
It took weeks to get ashore,
One more village to adore,
They did misunderstand us,
Closing doors making a fuss,
“We’re just here to have a bite”
“and a place to sleep alright?”
But then got betrayed so hard,
Flanking us with royal’s guard,
Thus we go back through the yard,
Reaching the ship to bombard,
Escaping is what we sought,
We could have won if we fought,
But kindness is what we are,
Our reputation we cannot scar,
Captain asking what became of us,
As we’re eating a charlotte russe,
He glared at us like a snake,
Whipping us for taking a break,
We, the pirates, are working hard,
Until it’s night to deal the card,
Then I dream an awful dream:
Darkness invading as we scream,
Silence comes and silence goes,
Asking questions but nobody knows,
Main-mast cracking like a twig,
Sky is full of clouds so big,
Shadows lurking around this ship,
Harpoons are given for us to grip,
Suddenly that thing just shows
Fangs and claws but then it froze,
Thunder appears in the middle of the deck,
We are floating on woods of the wreck,
Then I woke up with a pain,
In the chest and in the brain,
So I tell them what I saw,
We have to go back this is the law,
So we turn left just in case,
Waiting something big to face,
Lake of the Dragon, moon for a guide,
Mythical creatures, nowhere to hide,
Shark-like wolf-like hisses like a snake,
Yellow eyes massive thighs tails to shake,
Monsters gathering around us all,
Will never let us go until we fall,
Legendary battles we strongly fought,
Houses villages and towns we bought,
Pirates in the seven seas going all feral,
Our crew in the lead daring any peril.
Saturday, 2nd of March 2013
Posted by Bu Thyab
Hey! Yeah, all of you’s waiting,
The colours mixed, so listen,
I’m about to tell what’s happening,
Across the streets of Auburn.
Over there! That car, see?!
Yeah, the yellow one,
Woah! What a cool M3!
Should be heaps of fun!
Back in line we keep sighing,
This ballad: a time waste,
For our energy keeps draining,
Come on! Our lunch to taste.
Two minutes left of the agony,
“Next in line!” “Yay!”
I’ll make a colourful symphony,
Finished! I have to pay?
Cash only? You gotta be kiddin’!
EFTPOS next to that centre,
Where? There! It’s not hidden!
Walking and walking then I enter.
So, you see, it’s near closing time,
And all I have is a card,
7/11 cash-out with that chime,
Returned to find a guard.
“Mate, we’re definitely closed!”
“Seriously! After all that?!”
Stepped forward, muscles exposed,
Went back to my flat.
This story ends with a sweat,
Job, at last, completed,
Many colours I ‘ave met,
All this is already tweeted!
Thursday, 21st of February 2013
Posted by Bu Thyab
Halt! Listen to their whispers and feel their hope
Shattered as they lie limbless under mass graves,
Erase your eyes from weeps and endure sorrow,
Honour their long lost lives and roar for freedom,
Tell me, why these women laid near the children?
What have become of us as we observe in silence?
Their screams rose as they burnt, deafening silence,
No media coverage and no one to share their hope,
Villages razed and innocent lives lost their freedom,
They were once in peace playing with the children,
Soon soldiers in black arrived to dig copious graves,
And today, we remember them and pray in sorrow.
Tell me, have their offspring won over their sorrow?
Or have they indulged in drugs to overcome silence,
Owing to false banners and the so-called freedom,
Selling their bodies to traffickers with the children,
Maybe a few fenings or pennies for a future’s hope,
Yet, more bodies pile up on top of rotten graves.
In the news: “The Forgotten’s discovered graves”,
Concealed words disclosed for the souls of sorrow,
Voices heard, books written, survivors lived in hope,
For a better future; for a lovely life without silence,
For new ideas and miracles; for their lovely children,
For their identity; for their faith; for their freedom.
Minorities today still seek their promised freedom,
Ancestors were the same, but betrayed into graves,
Fought even if unarmed and were forever in silence,
Wounds we are yet to replace for dreams and hope,
Still, we need to commemorate our past’s sorrow,
To enjoy our fated future inherited by our children.
We must learn and teach our past to our children,
Such that they keep moving forward to freedom,
And resurrect the long lost lives in the mass graves,
And teach them symbols of peace, love, and hope,
And to reach out and speak for those in silence,
And to create a safe to lock-up the ancient sorrow.
Silence! Listen to the graves sing a beautiful melody
To sorrow over those whose freedom is forever lost
And to share the children their love, hope, and peace.
Tuesday, 5th of February 2013