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Showing posts with label dead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dead. Show all posts

Friday, March 29, 2013

Deadened



Deadend

Shirley: I got my degree five years ago. Did you go to Cal State?
Fazeel: Yea I studied Computer technology and Psychology there

Shirley: So are you Indian?
Fazeel: My parents are Indian. I was born in Pakistan, raised in Saudi Arabia and New Orleans

Shirley: Really?!!!! My grandma's Indian. She used to make goat curry and everything
Fazeel: That's great. I guess a lot of people have Indian blood in the Carribean

Shirley: You're Muslim right?
Fazeel: Yea. Ahamm (wondering what's next)

Shirley: My uncle's side of the family is all Muslim too
Fazeel: Wow! That's wonderful

Shirley: You know I wanted to ask you something. My husband gets a newsletter from his church...
Fazeel: He's African American too, right?

Shirley: Yes, we get this newsletter from our church which says that Muslims believe Black people have raisins for brains
Fazeel: (Silence. Shocking dismay). Hmm where should I start to say that it's not true...




- Based on a true incident in 1993, Los Angeles

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Dead Silence



Dead Silence

Heavy Sunday night
Lonely city streets
Blank sidewalks
Locked doors
Empty cars
Pitch dark windows
Families fast asleep
Everybody's home
Except me in a car
After a party
Five scattered stars

A rumbling train
Keeps pushing on its way

Maybe she's listening to
Sontag's voice of hope
On his radio talk show

How far is the corner
Where she seeks me
Weaving dreams
Missing me
As I am
Appealing to fate






Fazeel Azeez Chauhan
8-16-99

Eyes Dead



Dead Eyes

Poor Indian women
Sifting thru trash
At a waste dump
Newly arrived shipments
Girls stunned
Looking at camera
Social
Shared water tap
Couple sleeping on street
Homeless kids
Child begging for rupees
Cold wind blows
Baby on handle bar
Of a bicycle

Children without hope
Prostitutes
Hardcore
sober
No blinking

It's lunch time
Miles of military planes
Parked at the offence base
Left the enemy
Exploded to ashes

From Jerusalem
To all corners of the burning ball
In
some sacred and some unholy spaces
Forgotten people again pray
Pleading for a better life


(by Fazeel Azeez Chauhan, 3-19-99)