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.
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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.
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