Terry Malloy:
“You don’t understand! I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender, I could’ve been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am.”
Marlon Brando — On the Waterfront (1954)
[1]
Yes, I remember what you were not there to see, at home, behind closed doors
obedient brother, I am the rebel son, the punk without a cause
under the same household, we lived for fourteen years, after that, you were gone
did you think we were kin to a little brother, I came beneath the floors
other to my brother, to father and mother, neither god nor devil
no, you can be happy, I will not bother you, I will not give you pause
to think, to contemplate anything but your job, your family, not a bone
underneath the floorboards the hanging Keeshond left, you sent me to inspect
not that I blame that shell of a human being you spent trying to fill
despite God and the Church, you were not the bad seed, I filled the husk and hull
even if I am not evil, per se, not a monster but the child you destroyed
remind me not to air all our dirty laundry but of shit I am full
show the world who you were, who you remain to be when respect you feel void
trust until the sieve cracks, the lentils split, the rice yellows with disrespect
as the curry seeps in, turmeric shows no love, the family is disgrace
not that you give a crap, brother disconsolate, no one minds in the least
demented, write him off, is he not worth your time, it's okay, he don't care
[2]
I feel like you threw me under the bus, not that you care, that is the case
could I have had some class and been a contender, talent alone, a waste
only without support, moral, emotional, spiritual...the beast
underneath the floorboards come out into the room, the Moor with whom I share
land in al-Andalus, before Goan statehood, before Reconquista
disappear, how I wish I could efface my past, a lifetime I have traced
as far back as Vedic scriptures, the chariot, the chakravartin turns
historical dharma, the wheels on the cart spin down from Central Asia
as warriors traveled, they kept their religion, however the milk churns
disciples come and go, we left the brahmin caste with global aphasia
cancel the old culture as meaningless drivel, I seek a new vista
language is my forte, soft as a piano, my voice speaks English, French
and Russian as a rule, I learned all three in school, I have no mother tongue
serve the servants of peace, I outgrow the spirit of lies I learned as true
survive childhood, our house full of sadists who laugh, schadenfreude, a bench
[3]
I sit and meditate, I run away for miles, I return, a yo-yo
could I have been a man with a wife and children, who cares, I was so young
only after fifty does a man realize his wealth does not accrue
underneath the floorboards with the Moor of our past, no investment to date
left alone with a dog, hanging off a long chain, death comes for the Dodo
dumb without predators, until humans killed off the species without fail
as successful a man as you are, your success won't translate to others
being only human, you care for your own kin, you could never set sail
even as the anchor, the albatross you shot, fraternity brothers
even as this dead weight hangs from your neck, to swim to safety is your fate
no one cares who you are, except your wife and friends, whether you're rich or poor
a hack, somewhere between, too scared to take a risk, to scared to lose it all
contend with this, our dad, amateur pugilist, beat up his lesser son
only you were not there, you saw nothing but tears, the effects of a boor
nothing but rage inside, he tried to beat his rage into his son, I won
to say that I win now, writing of the family, their crutch always on call
empty every bottle, alcohol has no sense but to drown everyone
nothing but violence, anger, greed, ignorance, Goans drown in feni
dig the corpses, exhume the bodies, smell the stench, pickled, dried in the sun
even the fish curry, lessons in dysfunction, living recipe book
recipes never shared, the best meals gone to waste, in one mouth, out the hole
[4]
I rewrite history, I win the long battle of words, I take one look
could I have been someone, somebody to someone, a moot point, play a role
on stage like an actor but all the world's a stage, all the plays, too many
understanding nothing, you go through life stupid, forgiving nobody
life acquires its meaning in hindsight, contrition, making amends, penance
does anybody win when everyone loses, even the bank, I ask
vindicated by life, by a sense of justice, the world appears gaudy
even if the shoe were on the other foot, smile, I always try to help
but to ignore a child being tortured, the cries and screams, the chance
even you played a part, I forgive to forget, to let go of the mask
even as we wear masks during a pandemic, compassion earns kindness
no one is a monster, not our cousin, Arthur, a born villain, a whelp
spiritually stupid, a cynical phantom meets the ghost of the clam
over and over, tears, schadenfreude, laughter, torture a child, you lose
missing is the meaning, I know from my conscience but I am not a lamb
even torture affects the victim as distress takes over while the muse
begins her tapestry, she rewrites history, shadows of her blindness
only you disappear, you don't care, you don't count, she opens all the doors
did I mention, the light transcends all obstacles, I am not the Buddha
yet, I see beyond hope, beyond disappointment, beyond discouragement
[5]
Instead, I am the light, the essence beyond truth, older than dinosaurs
nothing compares to light, to wisdom beyond truth, dazzling the eyes, surprise
surprise, surprise, you're done, evil gets locked away, if only I coulda
to exile you to hell but hell doesn't exist, the mind is punishment
even if banishment would do a person good, Australia, down under
ask and you shall receive, what a huge crock of lies like a glittering prize
daimonion guides me not to do wrong, but not to choose the right action
over and over, lives lived again and again, gibberish, a fiction
for reincarnation is my karma as light travels in attraction
as magnetism pulls and gravity keeps down, forcing my defection
but I am just a bum, homeless since you kicked me out, mind split asunder
under the earth, I sleep, a bum to my family, which is not what I am
maybe I am a bum, I am not what I am, I am what I am not
[6]
which path must I decide to follow unto death, decisions must be made
however, nobody else cares if I succeed to finish this poem
in this world, words exist and continue to thrive for centuries as time
clinches his wooden teeth while reciting Shakespeare, Homer, a world unthought
hubris charms her victims, the evil that men do, Arthur Trinidad paid
ignorance with the fifth, to destroy innocence, the soul of a small boy
still cousin to the man lost on the path, dense woods obscure the light, a crime
what I am is a man, broken by his family, by alcohol they drank
how can a child abide the foolish ignorance of alcoholic drunks
as a man, I grew up broken, shattered, splintered, mirrors reflect the rank
tautology of lies, of dissimulation, of men who act like skunks
I am the child reborn, not in Christ, idiots, but the spirit of joy
ask me not to bow down to your obsequious punditry, professors
maybe I remain small, a quantum of pure joy, leave me alone, you whores
No comments:
Post a Comment