Category: Uncategorized

I tell the big-shot mobster I believe in America
but its courts betrayed my belief so I’m desperate
to avenge the savagery suffered by my daughter.

I don’t tell the big-shot mobster I despise him
and his family and all his kind of sick psychos
for giving honest Italians like me a bad name.

I tell the big-shot mobster what he needs to hear.
I beg and bow and humble and humiliate myself
call him godfather and kiss his hand. Sell my soul.

I won’t ever tell the big-shot mobster the satisfaction
from our violent vengeance lasts merely a moment
but the sin of our evil will torture me to my grave.

Inspired by the opening scene of The Godfather (1972)

A sonnet by Susan Gallotti

White waves scurry, arrival elusive.
Smooth, bleached limestone hides dull space rock crater.
Intense sun glare blinding and intrusive.
A lone cloud wafts, the landscape’s curator.

Blue sea tiers sky in monochrome rainbow,
Clear water dissolves slate, sapphire, marine,
Turquoise stops breath, fades azure, indigo,
Mid-day sunset in plain view but unseen.

Green trees, all hues, overlapped and blending,
Protrude center mural tall as Redwoods,
Unmarred, erect with pride and unbending,
Guard the cape like a valiant knighthood.

Grey heart absorbs light; Warmth, calm, hope effuse.
As soothing palettes mute the lonely Bruce.

Feet buried into the bank of the lake
Water stews around me
As waves splash against my breast
I stare from the Indiana beach westward
As the sun dips behind the Sears Tower
Yellow rays of light streaked through the clouds
Brushstrokes stretching
across the scape of the water

My friend waded a few yards away
Savoring the water and playing mermaids
I turned back to the sun
And saltwater started forming in my eyes
I thought of my mother
And grief overtook me like the waves
Cresting on the coast

The sun had set on me
As it had on her life
So I enjoyed the last few minutes of light
Before the beach faded into darkness

The sun plays odd in sky today
And this I’m not sure how to take –
Pursue it, you could say I have;
I met him, and bore witness to
The break above such weary hills
As ever have been known to be:
They clung to warmth, and light, and lost
The battle, as they always had –
For me, he left their somber crowd
To paint horizon crimson gold;
Through amber mist, I almost saw
A chariot, as in the days
Of old they spun such vivid tales:
I thought to spin one of my own,
And yes! How wonderful a fate
If parting purple never need
Be shown again – a selfish prize,
I know, but human arrogance
Gives rise to novel fantasy,
And so I sought to take after
His dance, and pluck him from it, once
The music of the day had ceased;
And question if, within his will,
Or if it were within his strength,
At least, that he may not depart –
And so I’ve made a point to ask,
Though long days he eluded me,
In dark and mist and cloud, until
At last, when in the autumn chill
Bent low enough along his route
For me to reach his ear – and when
I posed my question, he replied,
“Look out – see all I’ve risen for,
And all whose limbs I’ve yet to light;
You’ll see then why I cannot stay.”
So I looked out, and to my soul’s
Delight found glow I hadn’t thought
Existed in a simple world;
The foxes stretched; the buttercup
Turned up its face and followed suit;
I whirled – for there behind me lay
The rocky shore at river’s end –
Such common stones, but even these
Were made to glint and stipple-shine
By tendrils from my captive’s breath;
And seeing then how many more
Would shrink and keel for want of such
A spell, I knew that things must stay
Before just as they were — and so,
With scarce a parting word, I let
Him go. Seeing I understood,
He grinned, and turned, and fell away

our absence took away my loneliness for it fell for you:

Your laughter filled the air, your voice carried the wind
Your jokes were never dry, and your quirkiness? Cherry-filled
Your presence like a heavy hammer always broke through my shell
Looking into your eyes was painful yet enduring—stars really are bright

Time was so slow when with you—then I realized, it couldn’t resist your beauty too
Whenever you were around, we enjoyed your company—loneliness and I
My heart would rip and bleed at every “goodbye” or “see you later”
But I never asked you not to leave—all because I always hoped you wanted to stay too

ark~

Bangladesh does not have specific laws or provisions which address the added vulnerabilities of socially excluded communities in relation to crimes of rape/sexual assault.”
– Equality Now

“To create a society where every child can grow up free from fear and violence, the interim government and all stakeholders need to take immediate and decisive actions to strengthen and invest in child protection systems.”
– Rana Flowers

I recall the streets of Dhaka,
my mother’s grip tightening
“Keep your head down,” she whispered
as we walked through the bazaar —
passing men who leered,
elongated shadows.
the silence that engulfed my fear.

Yet silence does no good

For an eight-year-old girl from Magura
who had to face a battle she never asked for
Sadly, had little chance in winning

People grieved and moved on

For a second grader in Sirajganj
For the ever rushing women
trying to make it back home
before the sun sleeps
Aggressively moving towards their home
as if there were no shadows by the wall

A nation that once shouted loudly
now chokes on its own cries
The streets drown in rage
Citizens stifle a final plea

The border of Dhaka, rumbling with unrest
But the ones in uniform stand still.
Hands idle. Eyes averted.
When did their duty turn to dust?

Mob justice is raging
Assailants roaming the streets
Their beatings persist
More names buried, more faces lost

294 lives lost in January
69% rise in robbery and mugging
Women’s voices are strangled

Yet the law sleeps

The fall of government
The fall of safety
Of dignity
Of broken promise
The crimes never stop
These losses of names and voices
Never stop

No more.

Let the streets tremble with our voices.
Let the courts open their ears
Let the police remember who they serve
And let no child, no girl, no woman,
Ever walk these streets
Afraid to exist

A carpet of sweet-scented bluebells,
beneath towering oak and birch,
lies interspersed with wild garlic
and bordered by feathery fern
that seek the sun through scattered rays of light;
their lush, green leaves unfurling
as the forest floor, feverishly, comes to life
and spring begins its annual
awakening

The woman he saw from his childhood often,
He pondered—
She is not even fair and beauty—
When did his heart become so fragile and soften?
Was it her silence, deep as the ocean,
Or the way she was unbothered
By what the world might think of her life and motion?
When did I start to observe her so?
I should condemn my heart before it goes too far.
I’ve witnessed every phase she’s been through,
Watched the life she walked, in joy and scar.
Some claim that love means sharing the good and bad,
But it’s hard when I think of pulling her into my worst and sad.
I’d be glad if she got a life much better—
But I fear, what if I’m wrong and regret it later?
Enough—this inner battle must now settle.
I’ve decided to take her hand in mine
And get over this heart’s restless saddle.
I went to her
And whispered in a gentle manner,
“I wish for your heart—
Give me a chance to heal your broken part.”
Blushing a little,
She answered:
“You really took your time a lot.
Don’t you think you deserve a penance
For all the days we spent apart?”
I cracked a laugh
To ease my nerves—
She really doesn’t know
How fast my heart beats.
It’s a mysteria, I don’t deserve.
She chirped,
“I have a request to tell—
Please hear me once, and hear me well.”
I replied,
“I am yours, as you are mine.
Don’t hesitate—just tell your mind.”
She continued:
“I want to make memories with you—by
Walking down a narrow aisle,
Getting married before the ones
Who gave us birth—and the One who sent us here.
Not just making pictures with those
Who can’t decide whether to forget or forgive,
Or those who never learned ———-
—- How to live or let live.
I want to leave an impression of each moment in this world,
With you—walking along.
I never cared who doesn’t get along.
I don’t want castles or money bills—
Let’s live the rest of our lives in a little cottage down the valley and hills,
With nature and our pet Dolly—
Simple feasts now and then with friends.
And I’ll be so happy.
I know you have many dreams to pursue—
I’ll support them, even if it costs a few.
I know it’s hard for you to open up sometimes,
But I’ll be there—for all your climbs.”
I was astonished by her speech—
She looked puzzled, unsure how I’d react.
So, I gave her a peck on the forehead,
To let her know—
She’s not getting away from me.
Never ever.
Now I know why it happened to my heart…
Indeed, she is not fair and beauty.
She is beyond that—
She is my beautiful fairy

I would desire to sink into your body
deep into the ocean as the titanic sank
Into the Pacific, awake on this body as though on a seashore of the ocean I sank into, the feeling of your warm embrace as I explore this body of island
Your eyes a starlight and when you stare
I could feel the sun rays on this dear skin that sits on my
Bones and drive my desire for yours.
I see you fine brown girl
In twilight’s tender our soul entwined in a secret place
With eyes aflame, we shared a lustful gaze-
A yearning passion that set our hearts ablaze.
Forbidden love, a tempting furtive tape
As our fingers brush igniting fervent fire, a desire whisper rising ever higher. With a stolen kiss, a breathless sigh, we wrote our love in silent fervent verse
In moonlight tender glow at night we found our way.
These two hearts aflame forbidden love’s display,
a passionate lustful union secret and complete In twilight’s arm, our love was bittersweet.
When the war came, we fought, we fought with our words as firearms fired against opponents as in warfront
I would surrender even now to become captive to this love and lust.
But every prisoner seeks true freedom
And every lover seeks true affection.

I work a machine
where I push a bar
connected to a yoga ball—
back and forth I push
to let fish escape a pond.

Out of work for a year
restoring our town’s concrete
foundations after a hurricane,
I’m back on the job,
able to breathe without ringing ears,

with the hope of a day worker
that my exhaustion brings
contentment at day’s end,
a paycheck whittled in the books
by my slim expenses,

with thoughts of summers
by the river, where fish
get their first taste
of headwaters
where they were born to return.