My National Poetry Month challenge to myself has become a collaboration between synaesthetic artist Sammy-John, myself, Anjum Wasim Dar and Jay Gandhi: Day Nine: A G Minor

G Minor

G Minor

G minor

Today my heart aspires to go to Church
but feet demand a holiday and park
the 100 kilo body on the sofa:
embrace inertia

if God’s within me, why go to the temple.
Mother’s spirit can also visit the living room

and I think opening up to my lover
or blurting out in front of a counsellor
can at least give me a receipt that
I did confess.

While I find chaos in synagogue,
I find peace during Ganesh Visarjan
when the songs are blaring out

Energy means different things
to different people just as G minor does.

By Jay Gandhi

The Invent Me In G Minor

Make stories about me.
Tell tales of how I live.

Tell of folk I’ve met, slandered,
divorced, harmed and shagged.

Their inventions come back to me.
I’m amazed, horrified, delighted

at what I’ve done. Then worry,
because I remember none of it.

Worry that my mind is going.
I need to hold onto who I am.

In G Minor

It’s her ’ and  no one smiled.
abandoned,  just  a heap of trash
In many lands, born of any caste
or creed, not differentiated, cashed
song composed without G Minor
fifteen to a forty niner, old miner-
might as well dig coal or carry bricks
facing negligence torture injustice
books burnt, sold destroyed tricked
yelling in silent agony, ravaged  into
zombies senseless, has humanity not
metamorphosed, song stilled , shot.

By Anjum Wasim Dar

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