Scratching the Walls*
I woke up in the night
the rats are scratching
between the walls
it keeps me awake
I swing between discomfort
and understanding
for a second I am in the rat’s skin
feeling trapped
My life.
This life.
But then is there any other life
anticipation of death
will always
make life look like
a trap.
The relief with death
but also its betrayal
who cares about spirit
when ego is the one
who feels the fear.
still
we will all manage
to die.
you created all wars
exploitation and murder
discrimination
and prejudice
to deny this
the fearful moment of
forced surrender to death
or perhaps the ultimate orgasm.
The meeting of the fathomless dark
with the ultimate light
what would happen
if fear didn’t exist at all.
Would it be what is called
heaven?
I still hear the rat scratching
and the 3 a.m. air
nauseating
my cells
flesh is much more mystifying
than the thought of spirit
flesh and the physical pain
the mystic of flesh
flesh is the substance
of fear.
fleshy pain
and the meaty soil of fear
* * * * *
the other day
I used statistics
to look at my love life
fruitless yearnings
for the unavailable beloveds
forgettable affairs
and forgotten one night flies
a fruitful brief
marriage of inconvenience
Solitary bed in
abundance
at last giving in
to the fact
that there is
no still unfound
natural lover
of mine
anywhere
meant to be met
what a relief.
* * * * *
While the flesh
deteriorates
asking for efforts
to slow down
the process
while the wrinkles
turn to a smile
with a hope to be hidden
while flesh decays ,
the spirit
grows refined
the baby of wisdom
is born and growing
while the flesh wrinkles
and the matter
slows down
the intuition reaches
the divine
so much magic
locked in the substance
of fear
until they separate
the day I die
if the spirit
is grown fully
it will either
leave the decayed flesh
- in which case I will know
that the flesh is
truly a wall
separating
pre birth and
post mortem –
or the spirit reaches
its height
and dies with the flesh
in which case
I will know nothing
and that’s how it is now
really
because
it doesn’t matter
if you believe
in many lives
in succession
or the spirit living
after death
because on the day
of revelation
or absolute nothingness
my person
as you know
my ego
will die for ever
which also would be a relief
despite the here and
there
joy and rapture
* * * * *
I hear the scratching
of walls
and am communicating
with the rat’s mind
it’s a mathematical mind
simplified
for life’s sake
my neighbour showed
her scar
and disturbed my dream
with the calcium rocks
in her gall
I made perfect poetry
in English
in my dream
but it was read
by someone else
so I heard it only once
and forgot, got for.
* * * * *
My daughter’s computer
smells of shit
as she said
Wondering
is it tired?
or is it because unused for long.
or just getting rid of waste product
I am expecting the walls
to be scratched
tonight
what strange life.
only a rat scratching
behind the
walls
could remind me
of that
in these days of
long sleeps
and the crowded busy land
of dreams.
* * *
Vida Kashizadeh
15th February 1995
____________________________________________________________________
* During 1994 and 1995 Angel tube station in London was being rebuilt. Once they started digging deeper the rats and mice colonies there became homeless, and started to invade the houses in the area. It became a long struggle in the neighbourhood to try to get rid of them. One of my neighbours had even witnessed a rat entering her flat through the toilet basin’s pipes. As a result she stayed with her friends for a while and 6 months later she decided to move to France where one of her sisters lived. So yes rats can change lives.