[the place of the dead]
I walked along
Zitoun Lak’dim
savouring
the smells
the sensitivity of the moment
as I crossed between
the sun-warmed street
and the coolness of
the corrugated plastic covered walkway
an early morning
water strewn by shopkeepers
in anticipation
of the heat
i rounded the corner
and entered
Djemaa el-Fna
the place of the dead
and, feeling a strange panic
ran towards the centre of the square
the ‘oud howling
the gnarled Gnaoua singer
the steam-whistling kettles
poured into the throat
of the street performer
for tourists
the toothless serpents
the camels
twitching their ears
taunted by flies
for tourists
and fortune tellers
crossing palms
dirham, dirham
finding only tall
dark strangers
fear not
fear not
i stood there, surrounded
the lame beggars
outstretched limbs
hands clawing
dirham, dirham
the wailing of the singer
the hustler’s cries
Marrakshi! marrakshi!
and then the silence
half an hour
And it started
a mighty rumble
the thundering
in the distance
of a billion feet
hammering on the earth
like rats
fleeing
a drowning world
converging, converging...
Yes,
out of their shopping malls
out of their armchairs
out of costas
out of waitrose
the gringas came
the whites
a mighty throng
running now
along the derbs
thundering
guided
by the outstretched arm
of Ahab
beckoning
Ahab
led
by a vision
led
by a dream
led
by a prophecy
call me Ishmael
torn from the womb
of the beast
running, crawling, scraping on bare knees
pressing, desperate,
junkie eyes
gnawing, clawing
craving sensation
experience
give it to me
fucking give it to me
give me more!
up Zitoun Lak’dim
down Mouassine
along Laksour
from all directions
the whites came
screaming, desperate
listless eyes
locals panicked
the mob continues
still clutching
in puffy hands
a blueberry muffin
2 days old, wrapper half on
drop it Trace, let it go!
can’t you see?
he is risen
He is Risen
Apocalypsis
Iessou Xristou
the Gate is opening
we can go
Ahab beckons
we have done it
a god that can think
A God that can Think!
our work is over
miller time
TGI Friday
Thank God It’s….
Judgement Day!
we can go
Ahab beckons
drop it, Trace
let it go
converging, converging...
on
Djemaa el-Fna
the place of the Dead
and as the first of the whites
entered the square
a mighty groaning
thundered down
I felt the Earth shake
and a great fissure
opened
between my feet
a crack in the Earth
growing, growing
i jumped
as the Earth sprang apart
to swallow the whites
[possibly to be continued!]
Poems by Devaraj #2