Monday, 15 November 2010


This is who I am -
kin after kin
of dark faceless
bearded flute-playing satyrs
mating on the wet grass.
From their grunting
& panting
came we -
strong arms
to tend the sheep
& hold the hot-headed rams
and bury the hatchet
in the skull
of whoever threatened
our lineage.

This is who I am -
effigy after effigy
of silent women
with knitted brows
and knotted flesh,
whose milk and sweat
blended with that
of their sheep
in an all-pervading
rut scent.
Taken on the hay
in drizzle or hail,
in times of peace or war
from their tears & shrieks
came we -
tender arms
to milk the ewes
& dry the newborn lambs
all for a better life,
all for the offspring.

sliding on the slopes
of the mountains
where gods would
roam and rage
against the meagre
- we step on their skulls
& spit on their bones,
we feast and dance and drink,
for we shall see the sunrise!


Anonymous said...

but you have been terribly scatterred lately... coming home at last,or just coming home to have a place to leave from ...again

Brindusa said...

Thank you - you're so right!

I have no place to lay my head - just passing through...

& home is where my heart is,
no truism intended.

Anonymous said...

Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head...