Monday 15 November 2010

Balkanika

a
This is who I am -
kin after kin
of dark faceless
shepherds,
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.

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

3 comments:

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...