Tuesday, January 10, 2012


Nights outside fenced houses
Refugees in foreign shores
Haggling for food, and for who we are.
Stars they seem alien tonight
The owl cries in a human voice
"Land mines", "Border lines", "My Lands".
As springs are gunned down
In forest highlands
As we count the dimes
For a pocketful of sky.
I was born with lines on my palm
I'll die with Borders in my heart.


fяєє ѕριяιт said...


booguloo said...

Nice job. Took me right in for such a short one.

sayan said...

thank you booguloo....glad you liked it...

sayan said...

slug..am happy you liked it...keep reading..

Abin Chakraborty said...

I know what is the origin of this poem. It could well have been titled 'shadow lines', for all we know.and the lines on the palm could well have been the lines on Thamma's face. and the fences...those outside the upside down house.

S.E. Ingraham said...

excellent ...