The lambs are slaughtered and we leave-
By the spouting of their blood!
By the omens in their entrails!
By the riddles in their bones!
- We leave
This is no land for the tattered ones
We no longer belong to these hills
Our ploughs are blunted against furrows of stone;
The milk of our cattle has curdled in their udders;
Vultures feed on our wretched carcasses
As we leave behind our painted dawns and
Nights pregnant with desire;
We leave behind a heavy curse-
O land of tyrants!
O land of fools!
May your rivers shrivel into dust;
May the plague infest your fields;
This is no land or refuge for us,
The sons and daughters of the ages,
We who have been given mastery of these worlds
And those worlds beyond these worlds;
We have folded our tents under the scrutiny of our foes
And tomorrow, tomorrow we shall find ourselves, anew.
© Omer Tarin 2016, by special arrangement
Poets and Dreamers
San Clemente, CA
So we travel on earth seeking the terrain of Poetry, walking through wilderness and empty landscape or visiting those ancient sites like Dholavira in far-western Gujarat, or Mykenai in the Greek Peloponnese, or the Arawak campsite on eastern Carriacou in the Grenadine Windward Isles, pursuing that authenticity of experience in a form of antique material reality...
Kevin McGrath 🐚Yoga of Poetry
“Dare to live the life you have dreamed."
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