Archive for September 21, 2017


for Dr. Carl Sagan





for Carl ….





for Dr. Carl Sagan

( 1934 – 1996 )





when you visited us each week,

                    stirring wonder in all,
billions of synapses fired,

         or according to my teachers at the time,

         misfired!


        
                           and yet you comforted us,

                          your reason,

             logic,

                       and,
                dedication to the facts and always,

          

                              always

            to the science,

               and to science,
mentored us.



… and so as you left us here on this pale blue dot,


                you still live in the starstuff,


the stuff of life,

                                     mingling with the infinite depths of the cosmos,

                      

                      and as you taught us,

                          that there are more stars in the universe than all the grains of sand on all the beaches of earth,
                               still your vision lives within us all,

                       a testament to your humanism,

                    your genius,

             your warmth and all that you left behind,
& that, that humanity of yours,
             shall live on in the imagination of this speck of starstuff,

                as it floats,

                on the vastness of the great cosmic ocean …











this immigrant skin.





empty bottles, discarded cartons, garbage bins,


littered with fragmented shards of myself,


shed, left behind,


amidst the haze of memory, strewn, deafened by the cacophony of hollow tins,


tossed away pieces of who i was, of who i am, of who i ought to be,


ever trying to belong, to fit in,


to touch, to be touched, to be seen, to be able to see.

so i moult, a deceptive social chameleon,


slimy,

deceitful,

charming,

soulless,

smiling,

barren,



casually dumping tattered emotions,

flung aside here,
bits of that old life,

that in the blurry mist swirls,


leaving laughter, streaks of tears down drain hugging boulevards,


of platinum and of pearls,
trashed alongside crushed petals,


as numbed frigid night unfurls.




this immigrant skin,

this malleable face,
my numberless, 

incomprehensible masks staring back,


a mishmash, a grotesque mosaic,


shadows of yesteryears faces,

worn and torn,


ever straining to break flee,
of this relentless restlessness that gnaws,


teetering on tightropes,
clutching on filaments of 

hope,


hope,


yes, hope,


hope that i may once again walk free,


all the while searching to find, what i have become, 


the scurrying around to find,



the real me.





         _______



( inspired  by Erich Fried’s poem “In Hiding” )





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