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Sesame Street
it's more of the same
the pink and black girl was looking
-when you said hello-
she knew, lying there
maroon fingernails
black hair swirling around her face
so patient still tense waiting
a panther to spring out of the sea
walking down the street
your shadow scared you
the wuffs of the dogs scared you
the palm that clutched the movie was sweating.
a gleaming screen obliterates your touch with
scenarios
and now you, the spectator
Hollywood cliché
you and me shall
tell you
what you are
you waded into the water
shrieked when the seaweed came and touched your feet
softly ever so softly
the same old music plays
fast food at a food court
some said you didn't care
but some said you cared too hard
wanting to lash out at the man who asks whether
you have a television in your living room
....
(and He sits nearby... regards you.... laughs
softly ever so softly
and you want to caress those lips
to entrance him.)
....
but your sense of decency, of growing up in an Indian society
holds you back.
the restaurant's carousel is already spinning.
look at her pink rimmed black mascaraed eyes
softly ever so softly
Has Mona Lisa been reincarnated?
already your mood is destroyed
will it regenerate
will it be another computer program
that spins out of course
neglected; you don't want to learn it.
your response:
"you've got it all wrong"
"I'm not like that"
"can't you see me the way I truly am"
"can't you see me"
softly ever so softly
the horses and unicorns of the
lone carousel go around
and around
and around
there you are! ah, you can never elude me.
so I am walking closer
running before it starts up again
but...
the pink and black girl is calling me....
everyone says
(those things never happen.)
"but they happen all the time!"
yes
it happens all the time
you see my dear
that is the whole point...
vehemence.
unfilled glass of passion.
failed subtlety.
softly ever so softly...
you didn't tell your father the truth.
you told him all the outlines
a Nobel Prize in planning
and when you cried
you remembered a chocolate cake.
guilt: the ice slowly running down off the ice cream
with the sugar and cream and fruit and candy and whatever
your fingers are sticky... loving it aren't you....
"sometimes I want to break everything
(those unseen things
I want to crash through glass)
am I innately violent?"
no, no, no, you are not.
of course not, ma cherie.
It's life. you are a poet. all poets have the blues.
shrieks inwardly
you act out ... eh, your clichéd dreams maybe.
softly ever so softly...
already?
did they cross the border
between India and Pakistan
already?
were the barriers flung in triumph
and did you stand on the flags?
the Indian Pakistani soil.
(did it taste like anything special?)
oh, those lost words
(the ones you never wrote down, I mean)
you turn away, and she is there
and the pink and black girl has turned her face away
and I love you, and I love you, and I love you
don't you see
....after all everything is about love
"all I want is to dance with you
kiss you"
sweet purple pink black
all colours are merged together
turned away.
who was left?
grace: an anticipation of
possibility.
bravenet.com