a painting of a new earth

I took a paper yesterday and drew earth.

sitting, back turned against the bravado of the city,
i thought that this city can be deceptive
so I turned my back against it
and faced the horizons,
the rushing clouds above
like fingers, caressing the promises
of unrequited love

the textured drawing,
the focussed pencil tip
the unassuming aura
all lent themselves
to a drawing of a new earth

it was one huge drawing
with no countries
because in my painter's eye
a borderless earth seemed appealing

it was a flagless earth I drew
because in my painter's eye
i envisioned a world without
shackles flags bring

crying, my pencil
lingered on the beak of a pigeon
flying across,
while below
a man, with a kalashnikov,
took aim

in despondency, this time shedding tears,
i let my pencil complete the drawing
the kalashnikov-wielding man
standing on stumps that were once his legs
one of his arms amputated

i then bent and placed my ear on his heart
and i heard torrents of tears, like a broken sewage,
his chest heaved, his stumps gave way
and i cried for a long time
my tears staining my paint

after what seemed so long,
i stepped back and wiped my tears
and whispered to my paint:
"I never knew you were in this kind of pain..."

C) Salem Lorot/echoesofthehills 2015