Veronica Pamoukaghlian
URUGUAY


The Word

My blood is marked by genocide
on the two sides
of these Atlantic lines

My fate was sealed with the blood stains
of cotton workers from Marash
slaughtered by the ottoman
and the mixed blood
of conquerors
and massacred
of masters and estranged slaves

The rot of colonialism
lurks underneath
our 15 seconds democracy

My eyes were numbed
by what I hadn´t seen
after the dirty war was over
after the bowels of the Earth
had vomited
bones in Uruguay
lifeless infant mummies
in the soft heart
of Africa

after the tide brought in
the loot
of generals,
green men of power and no shame

My past was carved with knives
on children´s bones
in the mountains
of Leninakan
with hanged peasants
on the slopes of Ararat

My human pride was dumped
in Rio de la Plata
one summer night
in a death flight
that time when I
had learnt to sing
before I grasped
the word
The word was born
from the colonial rot
under our soil
and under Africa

The word was black 
and cast a deadly storm
before the sun

The word was Genocide

                             
April 2006 Published by ARABESQUES REVIEW (Algiers)


:
 


INDIAN KINGS

I´d seen them
in the galleys
under the dust
and bleach

cleaners, servants
lesser men
who made my bed
and made me feel ashamed

I saw them dance
on INDIAN night
after a fourteen hour day
under the rugs

I saw them frown and sweat
on elevators
and fear me
because I had more stripes
upon my vest

And just today
a picture
an Indian honeymoon

I recognized the faces
but they´d no uniforms

Princes, Kings
and colourful
jewels, women
the happiness
of being yourself

Kings they had been
in INDIA

KINGS with their turbans
their tunics, silk and threads of gold

with the same faces
of the galley boys
and their dead souls

I never thought
those small dark men
who learnt Yes sir, before they learnt their name
and scrub and dust
and dance like girls
on Indian day

Could have been KINGS
one day in INDIA
not long ago

And of me too,
a Wanderer
I thought perhaps
I´m nothing now
in Spain
or in America

and once perchance
I´ve been
a King
in Uruguay

and I forgot

the regal music
the regal dance
CANDOMBE
my soul
the thing I am
                

 

Copyright, Veronica Pamoukaghlian.
All rights reserved by author.