KarMel Scholarship 2008

 

Poem

“Forget”

By Tamikio Beyer

 

 

 

Desciption of Submission: “Poem about Keshav Jiwani, a gay, Hindu Pakistani man who faced deportation after 9/11/01” - Tamiko

 

I forget to eat. Sometimes I even forget to breathe.

– DJ Keshav Jiwani, San Francisco 2003.Waiting for his asylum application to override his deportation order.

 

 

1. Karachi 1978 - 1985

 

When stones smash against the apartment walls I gather

Mummy’s scarves ­– brilliant red flecked with gold I set

the needle carefully down Asha Bhosle’s voice high and delicate drowns

the curses I dance like the film stars dance

like the myths Swirl scarves around my body blood

red and glistening Tabla thrums and strings

sing like kites in the wind I dance night

            into dawn forget myself small boy with secrets

become Sharmila Tagore with her diamond

smile My mother and sister laugh until

tears run down their cheeks Papa looks through me through

the wall where the mob shouts and I dance harder for forgetting

forgetting who we are and where we have always

been Only this heartstring Only these heartbeats

 

*

 

Inside Ahmed’s room I press my hands against the cool stone floor Boys jumbled

on the bed Porn stolen from Ahmed’s American Uncle on the TV

The man’s hands tangle in her golden hair His face the map of pleasure

Close room heavy with the funk of boys I escape and

Ahmed corners me in the vestibule Takes out his glistening

cock – Take it you want it­ And I do

It fills my mouth sweetly Drunk

on his smell and smooth brown thighs I ride until he explodes

bitter milk in my mouth He sneers Buttons his pants Tell anyone and you

die Out on the street his rough voice follows me home My throat raw

and powerful I exhale the scent of boy

 

*

 

After Mummy caught me pinned under the taxi driver’s dank

hulk she hit me harder and longer than any man

who had sunk his hot flesh into me My sister found her with a tava

in her hands my curled body just light and space and blood on the kitchen floor

 

2. San Francisco 1997 - 2003

 

Here there are boys who kiss me gently on the thin skin

behind my ear Who cup me close in movie theaters and on Dolores

Park’s bright slopes When afternoon sun pulls

away the fog’s sibilance I add

muscle and flesh to each of my battered bones

 

*

 

The records spin like dervishes I mix

            coy flutes and the high voice of my childhood

drowning in electronic pulse the blond boys and girls

with flowing skirts dance their limbs have never needed

to forget their feet firmly planted

in concrete America they dance night into dawn and I the alchemist

blend sound into light I heartbeat I glisten

 

*

 

The towers are burning

Penciled drawings of men who smashed their bodies into flames

flash on TV screens across America I do not look like them

 

*

 

In long lines we touch our pockets heavy with Pakistani

passports and visa papers long expired creased one hundred times

The immigration man’s teeth are so white I am blinded My body buzzes

florescent My mouth forms words I can hardly understand

­                        – Gay              Hindu             Asylum            Please –

The immigration man’s hands are pink and perfect They stamp

a piece of paper and slide it across the plastic desk

into my own bitter brown hands I deportee I refuge I stumble

into misty streets Lose my way home

 

*

 

I forget to eat              sometimes I even forget

to breathe       let the phone ring       let me stand here      bones

disguised by fog                    unremember

myself                         wait to lift into darkness        disappear

into night’s thin membrane             heartbeat to still

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back