TWAL ZWAZO (silk bird)
(tale of a Haitian woman)
Her space
The settlement of rusted flesh
A sense of isolation
Lamentation in her accordion dream
A female ventriloquist in a state of longing
Collaboration gelled in her empty eyes
Empty heart
Empty soul
Buried climax
Head wrapped with recitation
Knotted by horsehair with fish bones
Underskinned fighting for courage
Crucified by sleep without rest
Politics urinating blood
Leave streaks of revolt
Chained by poverty
With lack of literacy
She wants to be set free
From instability
Free from coup d’etat’s whips
Free from the ruckus
Those drop spits from the elite
Their legacy migrates seasons of drought
On eye sockets nestled in pus
No water to irrigate the peasants
My ancestors descended from Jeremie
Down the tiny hill of Rozeau
The village town where women eat mud with their toes
And men pour their wounds on Haiti’s soil
You will find her there
Sheltered in her carnivorous bones soft like manioc
Hairless with her virus
She will question you with a Mardi gras smile
Who are you?
What can you do to help your our people?
Take note
Grab a tape recorder
Her story she wants to be heard
Hurry before she flies away with Diaspora wings
Before she reaches the skies with claws of her spine
There is no rainfall in her coffin
No vegetation
The rivers have dried out
The scent of bones is present
©2010 by C. Delaleu
Lyrics, poetry and art all meshed together
Sunday, January 17, 2010
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7 comments:
I'm so glad to see you back, Cathy. But you break my heart, you break my heart, you break my heart!
I cannot look at the stupid TV, I can no more read the papers, all of them looking for sensationalism.
And now countries trying to fight each other to know who will lead to help! Isn't that stupid? Europe saying US go home, many Americans not understanding... I fear that Haiti will be forgotten once again.
It will cost hundreds of billions, and it has to be done.
Before the earthquake, Haiti was a country almost forgotten. All of a sudden everybody talks about Haiti. What for, do you think? Most often a matter of politics and I doubt if a long term major effort will be done.
It will begin with schooling...
My own brother escaped this earthquake by sheer luck. He was helping there. He wanted to stay but had to be treated and would have been useless. He will get well and get back... we're a strange family.
Roger G.
hey there, old friend! its great to see ya! how have you been? pls know, you are in my prayers. a very happy new year!
This is full of anguish, spoken truth. I feel the pain and send hope.
Peace~
All of a sudden everybody talks about Haiti. What for, do you think? Most often a matter of politics and I doubt if a long term major effort will be done.
antalya homes
Thank you, Cathy.
You are a truly outstanding poet. Just a master of expression. You never disappoint. Ever.
where women eat mud with their toes
And men pour their wounds on Haiti’s soil
You will find her there
Sheltered in her carnivorous bones soft like manioc
This is what I mean, I can visualize and feel the spirit of your poetry. So rich and meaningful.
Thanks to you all for stopping by and for your prayers which was heard...and Roger I don't believe Haiti will be forgotten, yes, she's bee poked, raped by society but too strong to give up
Haiti needs a push and it will get it one way or the other not from the people but from strangers and much prayers
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