I Would Have Liked To Call This Poem So Many Babies: Miranhshah
1. I would have liked to call this poem so many babies
This time there is no time
a darkness of smoke
this time the time is complete
This time will never make sense
nor this rain
I just would like to see if i could become these droplets
drowning themselves in smoke
before touching the earth
I just would like to see what it means to know the wombs are still green
I just would like to touch them
being dead.
2.
I somehow like night birds
My hand even otherwise is not legible
To sleep darkness inside dried up stems
spirts out green moist are your lips days yellow and dusty and
blistery. Sleep profusely
It’s not for nothing the dawns
are so nauseating
Birds
begin to fall from the sky. Eyeless.
3.
Very soon nothing will give us their life anymore nothing
Of earth
Is it true that the seeds break because of a touch
Very soon earth will stop holding the seeds
This diffusion is new to me
Am I the angel who gave this ‘grain de beauté’ to your neck
I know nothing of the touch a kiss can do to your neck
I can’t see anymore
Does it happen always
How can a beginning be upwards
Right now
The tip of this pencil is the only touch
This poem will be written upwards
4.
This poem will be written upwards
The tip of this pencil is the only touch
Right now
How can a beginning be upwards
Does it happen always
I can’t see anymore
I know nothing of the touch a kiss can do to your neck
Am I the angel who gave this ‘grain de beauté’ to your neck
This diffusion is new to me
Very soon earth will stop holding the seeds
Is it true that the seeds break because of a touch
Of earth
Very soon nothing will give us their life anymore nothing
5. A nest is not a home
A nest is not a home
Wings make a nest
I’ve seen many of them
inverted on the sky, of course
birds have roots
that’s why lakes
migrate
to them every winter
There is one in your backyard too
watch.
6. I think I’ll drip from the stem of a tree then
The wind blows green
green your eyelashes are smile smile
it’s still golden
in mountains. Nights are sad
By the fire they sing Carpenters
My leg is stiff with wounds rocks give
By the fire you come again
to my eyes
I’m breathing again it’s a pain I had forgotten
Breathing the sky in with all its suns and stars
hurtling down my throat the chest aches
stiff with wounds
How long
for how long, I repeat
stone in river
incessant waters touching me naked
It’s rain again on tin roof
beating eternity
It’s scary you yell
tin you are lead
tin you are lead.
The tin is lead it doesn’t listen
It was 2 last night when I saw
in the mirror of my loo a sunflower dead
dead my cheeks bleeding yellow. In my eyes
you were not there.
7.
Life loses itself in quivers
This finds itself somewhere in the middle of the poem
killed by the movement of a steady pen