Poems Niederngasse  
Wayne Amtzis
From 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


Zone of Peace

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
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See NG Special Feature for an excerpt of photo-poems from Kathmandu