Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Fearless Tongues

You can severe my tongue

But not my words

For they spread everywhere

Like the fragrance of a wild flower

Unseen and unadulterated.

Tongue-less people sing the song

Of a muted rebellion but remember,

It is only muted, not mutated

Into the shape of obedience.

Each mutilated voice has a story to tell

And the wind will take it beyond boundaries

That you create with your laws and morals.

Can’t you see the electric posts growing tongues

And speaking to the wayfarers in the sound of light?

Don’t you see, at the horizon, celestial spheres

In their holy communion reciting my muted words?

Won’t you see the mountains in the north

Redden their faces with the blood of untold stories?

Till then, keep smothering the mouths that speak up

Pull out the tongues that sing the songs of truth

Blind the seers and wound the innocents

And even you break the abode of Nightingale.

Who cares, like the painter who painted the jail walls

With his spit, blood, semen and tears,

The silenced people will speak through their

Bodily excretions, remember.

Remember the wounds will speak the language of blood

Scars will narrate the stories of torture

In the broken skulls you will see white dreams yet to be dreamt

It is not child’s play, Mr.State

Histories’ kids will come back to take the payment

With their broken bangles and dishevelled hairs.

On that day in their eyes you would see

A thousand tongues speaking one word:


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