SAINT THOMAS, VERSES 162 - 177
Mark Traill
9 June 2008, 03:37I never understood French at school
But I understand you well
Eric, it’s like I’ve always known you
Even though you’re French does tell
Me nothing, but then you stopped
Caring long ago
I’ll wager it was when you grew
That beard in your Châteaux
You sailed from Marseille
In papa’s yacht
Downstream to find the sugar
Before you slowed in knots to berth
And change Sandrine’s behaviour
You’re middle-aged
Have never worked
To earn this heroin’s favour
And now you’re fatter
Grey beard all matted
Only distracted
When lows are protracted……………………………..
Don’t cry Eric
All will be fine
Here is the foil
Now take off its shine……………..
….Absurdity!
Of course she loves you!
Eric and Sandrine!
The name of my King
And the name of his queen!
…..his living in prisons is living in prisms…
….Glimpses of you
All covered in blue
The sky in your hair
In tears summer dew………………………………………
We shall move to Pondicherry!
I’ll learn the language!
Then we’ll all get married! …………….
…………………………..God?
That you calling?
Will I remember?
My saint in the morning?
………….Smother the dream
In plentiful ghee
With jagri and almonds
Then throw it to sea
Eric, my leg hurts
I really must insist
A life in your room
Turns my pain into bliss…………….
…Will children look up?
To a father in bits?
Forgotten in time?
And living in pits? ….
Sandrine, please stop
Stroking my hair
And dancing like that
With Eric just there ……….
………Will mother take time?
To tell him that I
Did love him but I’m
So flawed all the time?
Don’t weep again Eric
She loves you again
I told her you need her
Come let’s be friends…………….
Bending light in the night
The bat take flight
And blindly flies
When the moment
Seems so right………………………………………………
Woke up and didn’t remember
Why I’m shaking, feel dismembered
Oh what have I done now?
Oh why am I weak?
And why am I living
With people
Who speak
In their own native tongues
Because they’ve forgotten
An Englishman languishing
Right at the bottom?
I bolt from the room
And run to a bus
To catch my redemption
To see what is just
In Velha a corpse
Can offer me spirit?
Salvation is quiet
I hope I can hear it
Canonised, beatified, venerated and patron
Agartala, Bombay Louisiana and Cape Town
He travelled from castle his Kingdom Navarre
To wait in the rain for ships to Macassar
Apostle, a Saint of lilies and hearts
Which burst into flames and lit them sea charts
That led him to hear a Samurai’s confession
Francisco regretted his bland catechism
A life then begun after mass before china
His incorrupt body was guided by Loyola
From mission to mission in search of a home
Shangchuan and Malacca, Bom Jesus, not Rome
No exposition?
At least I have
This change of position
Changed my condition
And willed a rendition
Of a saint whose confession
Has lifted depression
And the saint’s inquisition
Has ended with miracle
Healed enemies with prayer
Unharmed by the devil
Saint Thomas did wander
Basilica’s old halls
Noting that Rome
Had blood in its walls
Bridges and rivers
Tarmac and cows
Foliage and temples
In hills by the towns
I’m running out of rupees
I can’t afford the beach
Will shack it here
Where it’s not dear
And in Patnam’s reach
I whist my days on bicycles
My feet are wet from clouds
Monsoon brims
And teases moments
Of lanes about the town
Enjoy the sun while it still shines
The radio did say
I hadn’t long to do this
Because a cyclone’s on its way
I really want to see one
And tick it off my list
Then after it’s over
I’ll run up to Colva
And wave it goodbye
With a kiss
Football fever
Ball retriever
Blistered feet
A soccer deva
Plays on sand
Can only just
Bare the pain
In time for dusk
Piggies squealing with delight, splash faeces in their eyes
I crouch to feed the mouths of pigs and sows between my thighs
The wind is due to suck my soul
Away from Goa’s coast
The wind decided different climes
And likes Gujarat the most
Paradise is different now
Beneath a greying sky
It dazzles still with different jewels
Ferocious tide is high
Reborn again
A message to send
In cloaks of Arabian brine
Made a decision
To return to the prison
And grow up with you
To die
The wind has faded
Yet monsoon has started
The cyclones departed
And those that stay
Only stand in the rain
So it washes away their past crimes
And where do these
Lost souls go to
Their ancestors on fields
In corners on earth
Whose hardships
Never passed
Their progenies births
