Calling From Space

By Paz Griot

 

The voices of fish markets

drown out the moon.

The cat calls of prostitutes

creep out the tourists.

 

I used to hear the ghosts

whispering secrets to hitchhikers.

I used to hear the djinn

rhyming from tattoo corners.

Now

the skyscrapers shrink me

and the sun is silent.

Who’s left to understand me?

 

I pray for new voices

to emerge,

new ghosts to surge,

new planets

in the street puddles.

New cities for stories

that struggle for shelter.

Calling from space,

welfare for aliens,

shelter for storytellers,

houses for ghosts

running from guns,

traveling without numbers,

because statistics suffocate,

news channels desecrate,

tell us we ain’t ready,

tell us we ain’t worthy.

 

So it’s either the graveyard

or the ghost shrine,

a lonely road

to a family

beyond our crimes.

They tell us it’s a fantasy,

our hair is too kinky,

our eyes are too slanted,

our words are too urban,

our tongues are too candid,

our minds are too curious,

our bodies are too intact.

 

But calling from space,

a new dance vibrates,

and foreshadows new knowledge

with no GPS device,

no fears of broken lights.

 

Just look to the sky

as the ghosts embrace us

and look in their eyes,

affection creates us.

 

Return

to our people:

the dissidents, the oracles.

Mysteries

unfold

for those who love them.

And planets can hold

only those who feed them.

 

Watch the eclipse,

feel the levitation

and expose the truth within

like a skeleton

on the horizon.

 

Forbidden imaginings

conjure new destinies.

Paz Griot is a spoken word poet, visual artist, actor, playwright, and performer originally from New York City. He now lives in Istanbul. He has written and published several poems, performed in countless plays and open mic events, written seven plays and exhibited his paintings, collages, and sculptures in six gallery shows in New York. He is currently writing his eighth play, and is launching a Zen meditation group.