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Wayne Amtzis
Zone of PeaceFrom
the Handbook of
Universal Responsibility Today Hari dies Tomorrow Geeta rises from the ground where she is raped The bullet that pierces Hari's heart hurries through yours You swallow or yes you spit you clear your throat The hands that hold Geeta down are not held back by your hands Cold fingers clean nails Next week Geeta dies and again Geeta and Hari Hari Hari There are so many tomorrows and ever again todays One of them is surely yours As all of them are Kathmandu, October 03 The crowd, as it shivers, draws itself in like a single clenched fist. In full gear, against a busted wall, police lean on each other and hold hands Rain. A welcome gesture The cement where Shoba spent the night through seems as clean as wounds tended to Though all vehicles that enter and leave the valley pass through a zone of peace, there are no seats to be found No tickets to be had Those that depart tend to their crimes Those that remain. to the punishment that comes |
| The Visitation (a dream poem) On being unable to translate the poetry of Mohan Koirala Mohan Koirala came to visit me last night I was expecting a woman in a maroon and silver sari I had glimpsed her on the path. I had anticipated her approach It was the poet who came nonetheless I motioned with my hand that we sit on the porch At the hour of night the moon was beaming He swept past and bade me join him on the floor There he set a sheet of paper before me With a list of poems, a long list The titles made no sense, but as I glanced down the page the rhythm of their phrasing made me smile Then he handed me the envelope he had drawn them from Another list. Dated this coming morning "These," I said, "do you plan to write them today?" They are already written. "But, they are only titles." Their syllables are the seeds of lines reverberating, that already arise within you And it was true; it was so. Each sounded phrase drew forth another So submerged was I in the maroon and silver light of this unfolding, that I didn't notice all the women in saris and the playful girls that gathered round us Laughing, chattering. Calling out the poet's name |
| Wayne Amtzis is a poet, photographer and
long-time resident of Nepal. His work from Kathmandu can be seen
on the website: photo-poems.com, in the photo collection
flatLine witness, and in Studies in Nepali History and Society Vol. 6.1,
June 2001. He is editor and co-translator of Two Sisters: the poetry of Benju Sharma and
Manju Kanchuli and of From The Lake,
Love: the poetry of Banira Giri. email W.Amtzis |
| See NG Special Feature for an excerpt of
photo-poems from Kathmandu |