Lost and Found

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The words
and the phosphorescence
they tell me secret things
and so,

 

I sit night after night
with words for company

engulfing the self

in the power of the truth.

 

in front
of a screen
blurred with
salty tears

there are moving images
there are ones that are
still.

of beatings and water laced
with chemicals.
gasses that blind
and freedoms that are

lost.

the fan whirs silent,
and the leaves fall
while,
the city burns.
and the lot
are asleep.

 

my skin prickles and shivers.

but,

not from
the cold
or rain,
or thunder.

these are the days,
of grey,
wayward,
clouds. deviant. and unfaithful.

promiscuous and adulterous.

 

have you noticed the sun,
the sun, has left?
instead,
a prison of embrace
from a nice man
veiled in hubris and cruelty.

the thirty one,
ten-eleven, the twenty fifth, the ninth
december and november
(these were the darkest months)
numbers, just as much as the
words
they make you
remember remember.

 

they ignite, they scream
they make up
the blood
on your hands.

 

chills
down my spine
in this thin cotton shirt.

 

for these words
in the phosphorescence
have power.
these ideas
of men
of brotherhood
and of unity
are made flesh.

 

they live
in the darkest of nights
in the streets of concrete and men

and in the heart of
the children of
this soil.

silent dissent
has stopped.

and these chills,
oh these chills,

 

they have awoken us.

 

 

 

 

-poem and picture by Michelle Gunaselan.

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Filed under Friends, General, Malaysia, Me Myself I, Poetry, Socio-Political