Poems

Thursday, April 16, 2009

unplugged version of-"THE WORKING CLASS HERO"



take out their eyes
they no see my blood and tears,
broke their arms
they no lift my dreams,
stitch their lips
they no utter my pain.


my father death bed
>their father night disco
their brother die without hunger
my brother die without food.

and no money in my pockets
they make pockets in money.


their money and property where take?
-my bare feet no go.
my hardships do no mistake
but they punish my sweat.


my soil,my care, my hot breathe
locked inside their bank.
my songs cleaning their drawing room.

i so sad
my sickle so sad
my hut so sad.


i love that reaper girl,
they sold that girl at the whorehouse
but i no cry, cause i am so dry.

i have no name
-they keep it.
my road where?
-they take it.
my story what?
-they make it.

they say - i listen.
they never see my soar
in their television set.

cut off their hands
they no cure our sky.
burst off their hearts
they no feel our face.

(Photo of harvest in Kagbeni)

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