Thrown

some memories on the table

for breakfast and lunch

then let them do the deleterous work

drowining in liquid implications 

in a storm of brainwaves 

the stabbing pain of past 

Integrity slain

Then the stillness of exhaustion

and recovery…

Born in the middle of

an invisible war - 

In internment camp

forgotten for years of blank pages

and stares, denied

when it was the right time

to write the ghostly stance

the deadly blanket 

of absurd isolation

asphyxiates each word

of redemption, abandoning

the brittle mind in survival mode

what forms the meaning 

that dances on the wall ?

what gives the light

that makes a shadow play 

come to life ?

the loneliness of a powerful language

in a world of illiteracy

it awakens

reinventing forms

of poein to capture the vacant cruelty

and the freedom it failed to kill.