Anna Kokot
BODY CONFESSION
Don’t look at me
Your blind eyes
You can’t see
my human’s shape
You can’t touch me
so deep
as you want
every night, every day
without using hands
without using...
[Pakistan] Sumaira Baqra
My Caravan
I have thought,
If my half-travelled journey
Becomes successful,
Sitting somewhere,
I shall unburden my exhaustion.
I shall look for the lake of contentment,
I shall soak the rose-petals,
Yasrab
(In the memory of a daughter buried alive in Pre-Islamic times.)
O! Father where are we going to? Bazaar!
What will you buy for me?
Doll, toys...
Erecting the exodus of irreproachable refugees
will be for the status quo an inexplicable parody.
Ironically collecting extremists the advocates contest
their choice of mercenaries they viciously embody.
Therefore the black crusader is empowered on his march
His desolate psyche is deathlike and his conscious is dark…