To a flasher : by me!!!

To a flasher

He takes his turn round the corner
Down the dusty road
His feet had just began to know
He marks his spot
Eyes searching and finds
-seeing me-
his audience
he looks around
cautious
OOOh! You know! You know!
Why cautious so?
He fumbles inside (so empty)
he points his gun
-I his target-
and loads his gun
he rubs his arms
he fades inside
I had not known IT was so black
As IT glistenes,
This runs in his head
“GUN is what you see
GUN is what I am
If it would swollen
Filling me, empty me
I am not hungry! I wouldn’t eat!”
Now it falls, limp!
WITHDRAW ARMS!
Echoing! Sleeping head* ask:
Arms? What? What arms? No arms!
Bent low, his head always low,
Only in search of an audience
It rose high
IT rose high
Only , when pointing a GUN
In an unknown war
With an unheard victory
“I rage” he screams
Yawning ears hear no sound
“ I rage my life!”
sleeping hands wave unseen flies
“my name is X!”
nobody asked who
“I live in X, suburbs”
nobody asked where
“I was moved from x land”
Nobody asked why
“I lost the hand of my mother”
“And dropped the grip of a small brother”
Nobody asked how
But I see him, does he know?
I’ll sit and see you
But let there be space between us
No one knows these days
They are watching out these days
Drowsy eyes suddenly alert, whisper:
“Who?”
Them
“better sleep then, close your eyes”
where were we?
It’s not where should I start
But how…..
why aren’t you at the girls school?
“it is the holiday” he casually says
his face suddenly sad
“is there any good in me?”
that hurts you not, but
is there any bad?
You shoot and know one sees
You laugh and no one hears
Worried “will I go to heaven?”
I don’t know
“Shall I ask the priest?”
Oh, HE doesn’t know!
“well, what’ll I do?”
do you want to go to heaven?
“ I want to embrace sand and never rise
that is my heaven: oblivion”
it is a good place
“?”
this your heaven, will they let you in?
“I am its master”
you deserved it….friend, you deserve
always draw a door
which will let you in
O’city! City!
“I remember a time when ma would look and see”
“Had you had your tea?”
“Give your brodda some bread!”
“You fell and scraped your knee?”
“Go early to bed!”
“sister if I may?”
you may
“sister…I thank you”
?
“you have called me you, they called me IT!
And screamed”
Brother if I may?
“you may”
brother remember
“?”
always want a door
that’ll let you in.
***********************************
* people of the board why is it whenever i write the word H E A D S, it is scraped out?

Maysoooooooooooon

That was wonderful

your scalpturing views are so strong as if i was out there, so close, feeling your heart beatings.

keep on...

best of my wishes

you have quite a creative talent...nurture it and it may get you far...well done!

thanks Omamyma and Mahas
thanks again and again and again
for reading
maha? wow....creative writing? what is that? sounds AMAZING....i want to hear you more


Omayma...dear,,,,the fact that you heard my heart beats, knowing that I was actually there , only shows that you are more poetic than me....how did you know?

What i am doing is a Creative Writing programme for people seriously committed to script wholly, and are practising or prospective authors in prose fiction, poetry, dramaturgy as well as other writing, mainly in combination with the performance arts. It's a very rigorous practical approach in which discussion of more abstract theoretical issues stem from an intensive engagement with works-in-progress. My work helps me to maintain contacts with agents, publishers and other bodies in the field by both reading and being read. It's writer's haven honestly in all that it manifests (language and literature -wise), experimenting, developing and attempting to write the magnum opus text that noone but you could ever write (i'm struggling but working really hard to get there!:). Being a Creative Writer is truly brilliant and loads of fun. I see you have it in you, the talent and the potential to write well. Maybe a Creative Writing degree wouldn't go amiss, if you want to have a shot at it!?
All the best...and don't stop writing!