A Body Split in Two
International Gallerie, Journal of Contemporary art, issue 30, (ed.) Bina Sarkar Ellias, Mumbai
A Body Split in Two
A Body split in two, not mine anymore
Ripped, Torn and Raped – ash and dust shroud it
A Garden of Leaflessness, who says its isn’t beautiful?
A picket fence in my own home and the house of my people
Barbed, Spiked and dripping with poison hissing and burning
Blind Cerberus is on the prowl, he is everywhere, visible but unseen
The mad demon rampages and tramples around ceaselessly in
Schizophrenic chaos, vomiting anarchy like toxic luminous fumes
A mirror cracked, Shards fall to the ground like diamonds broken
And faces that gaze back a thousand fold, like voyeurs peeking and staring back at me
Each incomplete, a virtual reflection of a hallucination that rises up in the smoky bog of our prosperity
The stench of a Dying civilization the rising Bile of guilt
We laugh like mad children, nervous and tittering
Naked and stripped we point to each other in failed attempts at redemption
Drunk on the liquor of Aries, huddled in our private ghettos we are all alone
Mute spectators in the cosmic coliseum, we witness
The Genocide of hope, freedom and the reason to be
The vengeful Gods, The Iron Fist
A New World Order of Black and White
Mechanical men, a parade they say, drumming a requiem
Marching towards Xanadu, and to kingdom come
The inherent chaos of all things, compounded
And Don Quixote will fight the ogres no more