Photo: Laila Neihoum
Tell us
In the dark alleys of surfing
In the dark alleys of surfing
the aura of the missed land
I wish for an illuminated keyboard
with an umbrella to shade
the day light off my laptop mentor
When losing the ability to touch them.
Tell us about distances
About that oceanic darkness.
Just tell us if what you have done
other than kilometers and miles,
was mere elastic elevations.
If an ant walks your thread of longing
for a century, would not last to the beginning.
Tell us if you would consider
drawing a painting on the
map of continents lost and found.
or on virtual routes of migrated thoughts,
when paralleled hearts never see eye to eye.
Let me utter and articulate
those pleas of throbbing entities,
of volatile Whisperers in need.
That door once ajar, now three quarters inviting,
hesitation was the herd of exaggerated politeness.
Let the leopard, the bard and the shaman
slither inside the orbit of transit policies
as we replace home for a shadow,
for a static, phobic and disciplined new home.
Laila Neihoum
Clovis CA 2010
