HOUSE OF POETRY

In this ancient dwelling 

my grandparents sleep.

This is the house of poetry.

In nearby fields

the grandchildren skip after sunbeams.

I lean back on the balcony

overlooking the river

to see them. I laugh,

Listen to the snores inside.
 

TABLETS

The ship

Uruk, Uruk,

a ship sailing in from the heavens,

laden with stars, men,

a savage jaw, devouring

sheep-like waves;

a ship bearing forest and steppe,

never at anchor off-shore; the ship

that elevated God to his throne

repeatedly water-borne

the ship of Utnapishtim

guardian of spirits.

Ahoy there, the driftwood

on the swell.

Is God nowhere to be seen?

The ship was destroyed and every passenger clung to a piece of wreckage.

A few arrived on the shore,

They were strangers in that land and their skins were tanned by the salt.                                       

First voice

I am the offspring of Tigris ,

a maker of  tar-coated baskets,

creator of poetry a god would weep at.

I am the nomad who established the city

on his shoulders and stayed standing,

a repeller of weapons.

I am the son of Tigris ,

bearer of offerings,

moving possessions and flocks with the seasons.

I’ll offer myself, if no sacrifice is found.

Lord,

show me the fault, why I deserve your neglect

in this wilderness

of no hope.

God be merciful –

I am the offspring of Tigris.

Ut-napishtim

Never one to peer through a door

or a window,

a porthole even.

When heaven darkened

and earth shook,

the ship he took for a refuge shivered,

ran with the wind, tossed in an abyss.

To return is unheard of,

and no night has witnessed

such mountains of waves,

such listening to a whistling eternity

in the black void

speaking to no one.

What brings him down now is the profound silence

of a ship anchored in mud.

Second voice

I crossed sand

to confront an eternity.

No camel to ride

nor baggage to bear,

I travelled till travel

had turned me to stone.

Chorus

Did anyone say

that after this

another night would come?

Note: In the ‘Epic of Gilgamesh’ Ut-napishtim is a wise king and priest of Shurrupak & a wise citizen of Shurrupak. His name is usually translated as "He Who Saw Life". He is the protégé of the god Ea, by whose connivance he builds the ark and survives the flood, with his family. Afterwards he is taken by the gods to live for ever at 'the mouth of the rivers' and given the epithet 'Faraway'.

TERMINAL WISDOM

How could I know

my outbound journey

could be the way back,

that my dreams were behind

and I wasn’t the walking shadow

of a standing-still man?

BOATS

The boats on the beach

leave with first light.

They are painted in mist.

In the dark night boats come and go,

come and go in the dark of the soul.

Between myself, and the boats, words

murmur, a lighted

cigarette fades,

a shadow decomposing,

and then I feel, O

a light breeze,

bringing a boat out of mist.

THE SEER

I longed to stand firm on the sea

the way I do on the land.

To walk with the whales over totems,

over those who have been slain –

but I drowned

and found myself here on the seabed

with the whales, the totems, the slain.

I see only the keels of the ships

of birds only shadows;

of humans, only their voices;

of water, merely water.

Copyright © Abdulkareem Kasid, 2009