poetryfromafar-Poems by Martha Little, paintings by Matug Aborawi

Can It Be?

2009-10-29T14:43:00.000-07:00

Can there be so many arms

raised up as if in prayer?

one almond sun saying goodbye

and the sun is a stop sign-entry prohibited

for so many raised faces leaving the promised land

so many promises forgotten and broken

And can it be that the water is violet

so silky and mauve? A magenta dream something to drink

there is a story in these boats and a sigh that blows the travelers

to an unspeakable destiny the fervent desire that drives them on.

Can it be those death vessels are filled with children and a hope so

vague that the sea is the promise land now?

And would it be that the sea will change

and something watery and wild will take over

and people lost to their desires will find a horizon where they can rest?

And could it be that the Straights so narrow and fine

Can take a boat under and mull it around

spitting it out like a mulched old tree.

That turbulent boundary that divides hope from despair

There's life on the other side

for those who make it.

The Guardia Civil Talks To a Stick Man

2008-09-01T13:57:00.000-07:00

The guardia civil agent had his life arranged in his pocket
His wife and family wrapped around him safe in his mind
He knew the day was like a clock and this day was almost over.

He came upon a man so tall he had to gaze up to see the tired face
At first he thought it was a ghost or maybe a strange bird swept up from the tide
And seeing the dark eyes he knew that he knew almost nothing

He wanted to lay down his life his pain his history
He wanted to forget his parents and their hunger during the war
He wanted to turn to the manual of how to handle this sort of thing
But something ancient and primal sung inside of him.

He turned from the stick man and headed back to his jeep
Where payday and family dinners and things closer to his
Short reach of control waited
The tall shadow of a man was gone as he turned his head
And he thought of blue and his grandmother

looking towards fire

2008-09-01T13:44:00.001-07:00

the boats had gathered over one
screaming ink spill of red
you could feel the tension as if
you too were perched on the helm of a little tottering craft
peering down into the big what of a journey

the air smelled like kelp and wood
you could almost imagine the rocking
and if you leaned into the wind
your destiny would all be presented in that red
it went deep as blood and you could swear it whispered something.

then there was a shout and the boats moved on
stopping at one mystery was not enough for this voyage
the boats would rest when each foot touched land
where hungry children and broken people could rest.

The Ones Who Stay Behind

2008-08-11T10:49:00.000-07:00

It was a clear day the waves were coming in

This sand so hot as always a red dry road brought us here

My brother sat just out of reach

He watched the boats taking away our village.

I close my eyes and in my mind saw Marion the big fat fish vender

When she got in her boat it almost tipped over her red kaftan swaying in the wild wind

She was giggling like she does when she sells a big catch and I laughed too

But now I feel empty and behind me our market is empty

My mother is humming and I try to hum too

But the boats are getting smaller and smaller

And I have to squint to see my father still waving as the boat surges with the water

Something flashes in the sun and I swear it's the necklace I made him

I found the shells and pieces of glass on this very beach

It doesn't seem important now my heart is heavy and I keep looking on the shore

For something that I lost but I don't know what it is

emtpy

2008-08-10T10:36:00.000-07:00

they`re swaying with the wind
they`re singing there`s a whisper in the waves
as they swing against the shore
an echo in the emptiness they come without people
the people come without them

there are doves of hope
doves curious about the contents
doves chattering the story of these vessels
they came all the way from Africa
they won't leave the little empty tombs

a beach umbrella in the back is a beacon
where people lay suntanning doing their normal things
people on vacation people who didn't leave their homelands
running away from sadness people sitting looking out over the waves
where the boats keep arriving empty or full

that thing

2008-08-03T11:59:00.000-07:00

they should have run they were free now
sick flames of their little boat had captured them
all of those days at sea up in flames
their stories were whispering back

it couldn't hold them anymore
but their feet dull and mired
like anchors in the new land didn't want to leave
their sweet doomed vessel alone
to its fiery end
it was one loss too many
they couldn't bear the burden of another soul
flying home to destiny´s whim

2008-08-03T11:45:00.000-07:00

they´re burning boats that carried the ones
all the way from the deep
they bring children and women,
men who have walked through Africa only to find the other side
empty and replete with more danger
than the hunger and death `
left behind

each boat cracks with a sigh
smoke rises like stories of hope
and reaches the heavens like all good angels do
once I saw an old shoe go up in flames
the only testament left in the sand are flakes of ash
blowing like flowers back to the homeland

conversations of four doves

2008-04-09T04:24:00.000-07:00

FIRST DOVE

"it is a tree that floats the harbour
it brings them back and forth
sometimes there are mussels and barnacles
good to eat perched against the oily sides
it gathers weeds and insects for us"

SECOND DOVE

"a coffin a tomb it carries death
any fruits that come of it are bitter
any one that follows it will go down
to the place more terrible than hunger"

THIRD DOVE

"it is a vessel from the god of love
light and full of hope it is sleek as wind
and fast as sound and it holds a story
from a thousand singing angels"

FOURTH DOVE

"it is only a dream and empty and still
for if it were not there would be children
and women singing old songs
men with oars and strong arms
paddling to find the other side"

DREAM

2008-04-09T04:03:00.000-07:00

a turtle man dreaming a birthing dove
the dove long and gentle sighing into the waves
he sits frozen on the beach while she reaches
her mossy spiney umbilical chord
down to the earth mottled with pink
_______________________
or was the sweet tendrils of the sea
reaching up to her, swooning her down
into the underworld of spongey things?
there underneath things lurked
smiling teeth of sharks
bitter wings of venomous jelly hovering in the never world

________________________

the man opens a toothless grin
and stories fall out priceless and long
he tries to catch the words in one hand
and swipes for one as it slithers away
but it is only an old turtle burying her eggs
waiting for her young to rise and claim their
place in this world that is half sky

COLORS OF MATUG

2008-04-08T11:35:00.000-07:00

sun mauve magenta spiral

with a cool fondue whip of mandarin

rising on that blue splashed with rose

beast that swallows the ones wanting to arrive

_____________

there's passion building in the clouds

a graying dusty whisper

a question mark almost a face

can be seen looking down

on one small vessal spilt like milk

on a rich violet tapioca beach

______________

its contents gone only the gaping maw

of its deck sneering down to the still earth

it could be a mouth or a sad grin

as if something was swallowed up whole

the dove waits, waits waits

and the dove

_____________

oh the dove the dove the dove the dove

it is singing a lullaby of white with a speck of blue

it is looking at the emptiness and the silence

and the cold tapioca sand

____________________

if you listen now you can hear the song

of a million travellers gone home

if you see the silence

you can feel the echo of the tide

going out

2008-04-07T09:02:00.000-07:00

it was an exodus

as if the final dry stick child

was at last free

the grandfather said

"the people returned

they boarded boats

and they sailed the arms of the ancestors

they had a long journey and had to cross valleys of belly buttons

and ears and even down the long crevice of a bony nose

but finally they arrived

to the heart they were seeking."

the stick child followed the wet trail

down the elbow of his grandfather

his feet were hot

people were boarding boats.

he was on his way to the hairy ears

that were moving with each sigh

as his grandfather looked back to the parched village.

2008-04-07T08:33:00.000-07:00

REACHING FOR HOPE

i was laying on the beach sideways
sand tore through my insides
i breathed it in
and out
i made it here but what was that pain
where my foot should have been?

through one eye i saw the others
they were reaching up
the boats more together then when i left
the blue of the sea
made me want to go back

but oh how they swayed
the sky reached down to scoop them up
and 3 perfect doves
smiled down from their blue world
calling them home to the other side
of hope

Africa

2008-02-05T09:55:00.000-08:00

MOTHER AFRICA IS WATCHING

The sun is setting over my tired belly

My mother is this ravaged parched earth

My belly is empty and the sun looks like a balloon

Daddy's arms flapping small while my mother sings

The waves are taking our men away

The waves are taking our souls away

___________________________

I go to the edge of the churning water

It brings shells and pearls and bodies

Sometimes there is something I need

Like a piece of string or once I found a wedding ring

But now it's taking our songs away

My belly is tired and the waves are taking them away

_________________________________

"What's on the other side?"

"Hush baby that's our hope where the sun goes down"

"Why is it taking my papa?"

"Hush child your papa rides the waves of our hope"

Her song is quiet now and I heard her cry

Then a low wail and I shivered into her body

I want to run to the waves to say goodbye

But my belly is tired and my mother is this red earth

_______________________________________________

CASTELLANO:

LA MADRE ÁFRICA CONTEMPLA

El sol descansa sobre mi fatigado vientre

Mi madre es esta desolada y reseca tierra

Mi vientre está vacío y el sol semeja un globo

Mientras, mi padre levemente boga y mi madre canta

Las olas alejan a nuestros hombres

Las olas se llevan nuestras almas
___________________________
Camino hasta el borde del agua turbulenta

Donde conchas, perlas y cuerpos emergen

A veces, encuentro algo que necesito Como cordeles, incluso un anillo de boda

Pero ahora lanza nuestras canciones lejos

Mi vientre desfallece, y las olas les lanzan lejos
___________________________
“¿Qué hay en la otra orilla?”

“Calla niño, nuestra esperanza se encuentra por donde el sol se pone"

"¿Por qué se lleva a mi papá?"

"Calla, niño, tu papá monta las olas de nuestra esperanza"

Su canción se relajó, y escuché su quejido

Entonces un gemido emergió, y temblé en su cuerpo

Quiero correr hasta las olas para decir adiós

Pero mi vientre desfallece, y mi madre es esta tierra roja

HOPE

it was like a dream it came upon us like something flat

vague and shapeless the hulkiness of it made me giggle

i motioned to my boat mates but they were all gone

i told them anyway we were saved

yes the cold hungry night had ended

______________________________________

i opened my mouth to call but only a thin line of spiders spilled out

it must have been the lost words that i had used

with the floating remains of the hope we had left

the sea had spun us around until

noone was left but me

______________________________________

there were people and they were calling

but their boat was going the wrong way

hands reaching down for me but I knew where i was going

and it was the other way

i waved and watched them pass

their boat was strong and had a destination

Castellano:

ESPERANZA
Era como un sueño que llegó a nosotros como algo aplastada
Vaga e informe, su hinchazón me hizo sonreír,
La propuse a mis compañeros de navegación, pero todos se habían marchado
Les dije que al final nos salvaríamos
Sí la hambrienta y fría noche tuviera un final
______________________________________
Abrí mi boca para hablar, pero sólo una procesión de araña de mí brotaba
Serían las palabras perdidas que había usado
Con los flotantes restos de esperanza que habíamos liberado
El mar hilvanaba a nuestro alrededor
Nadie escapó excepto yo mismo
___________________________
Había personas que gritaban
Pero su barca bogaba hacia una ruta incierta Sus manos me advertían, pero yo conocía mi ruta
Este era otro camino

Saludé y contemplé su paso

Su barca era sólida y conocía su destino
______________________________________