leave us our hills

goddamn you chinky rebel fools
(who water these hills with our blood)
goddamn you indian army goons
(who water these hills with our blood)

leave us alone, you bastards,
leave.
to eat and sing and dance and sleep
a quiet meal
a happy song
a drunken dance
and
sleep.

deep.

without
constant, constant, constant

memories
of your
goddamn guns.
and bloody countries.

leave us our hills.
leave.
all you bastards,
leave.

[published in blackmail press 26]


5 comments:

mesjay said...

an eloquent poetic protest. good poem.

feddabonn said...

thanks, mesjay! i'm not sure how *effective a protest it is though, like a toddler throwing pebbles at a plane flying overhead.

mesjay said...

sometimes i begin to wonder whether anything is really effective. but we still have to live as we should and say what we should.

Vana C said...

i like the opening verse if you would call it that, there's a little more spunk then some of your other works. but wat really pulls me is the context which i can't help but be involved.godam chinky rebel fools

feddabonn said...

very sartre, mesjay. the hero?

@vana: rather surprised someone hasn't pulled me up for 1) racism 2) language! lol.

thanks, i think, for "little more spunk". do the others tend t sound whiny?