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Ramon Mundair
SHETLAND MUSE
Outside dark molasses
absorbs the last juice
from a misshapen tangerine
and pours thick across the vale.
The wind furious at being
ignored whips the ocean to a roar.
Soon, the gloaming begins
and something in my lower back
stirs and, later, something
lying beneath my skin moves
and my hand casts spells
that appear garbled on the page.
Throughout the night, the moon,
just out of reach, plays with the sheep –
hide and seek – their bustle torsos
a strange comfort in a landscape
void of trees. While most sleep,
my ink luminous marks magic true.
STORIES FAE DA SHOORMAL
Here. Hear da ice craack.
DETOX
I am addicted to your fingertips’
touch, a gentle tap across querty
words I read too much
into; I can’t help but reply,
press my desire
into send. Don’t care
about your ‘circumstance’,
I’ve no patience for timing;
I’m wired, hungry, rash.
Where is your sense
of sisterhood? You teased
that night we kissed
and danced, your beer
a diminishing hourglass,
while your hands advanced
down my naked back –
me, an inebriated Cinderella
in need of a detox.
If I could, I would
dive into the infinite web,
retrieve the message before
it settles in your in-tray,
go cold turkey and stop
this wait, the constant
check, the need
for instant gratification
that punches through
my day, incomplete
without the punctuation
of your presence.
A CHOREOGRAPHER’S CARTOGRAPHY
These are not tentative steps
on terra infirma, this woman
feels the ground beneath
her feet. Read this
as a new dance.
Improvise – find free
ways to flow, stretch and claim terrain,
inhabit all regions of your body,
set forth and stride with natural grace.
Mark this ascent
in 16-beat time: Ek, do, teen,
char, panch, che, satt, ath,
no, dus, gyarh, barah, terra,
chaudah, pandrah, sola
– solar rhythms spin,
disrupt tectonic plates. Rethink,
re-scale, re-form, re-shape
cultural boundaries to create
physiques full with emotional geography.
You need no passport for pliant limbs
loose with joy. No visa,
no nationality needed for loving
kindness; claim your right for asylum
here – this earth – everyone’s sanctuary.
Read this as a new dance
part of a loquacious movement
that hip-hops and celebrates border crossings
with bodies that boogie with belonging,
tap dance this tenacious topography.
You are here
raise your flag, feel the funk
get into the groove,
and pogo like a punk.
Lilt and sway with the reggae chill,
waltz around the world, re-orientate
with the thrill of a highland reel,
do the two-step, fox trot, twist and twirl;
this is a choreographer’s cartography
a seductive salsa, this earth,
everyone’s sanctuary;
fandango this formation,
take a partner, tango, do-si-do,
grapevine, calypso
merengue, bhangra, danzon
breakdance, bulerias and disco.
These are not tentative steps
on terra infirma, this woman
feels the ground beneath
her feet. Read this as new dance:
a choreographer’s cartography –
this earth, everyone’s sanctuary.
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