Tuesday, November 6, 2012


© Farouk Asvat

With ruptured identity
After the mundane hours of work,
I look at the pink twilight
Through silhouettes of wintry boughs

In the dusk
In the stillness
In the smoky nostalgia
The wail of the muezzin
Pervades the tranquil air

But there is nothing here to calm the mind.

Somewhere the night screams.
Somewhere AKs come out of hiding.
Somewhere dilapidated queens walk the night.
Somewhere the alarmed houses are sleeping.

In the refrigerated cubicle
I prepare myself for the long night
Waiting for sleep
Waiting for grenades
To burst through the window

© farouk asvat

composed: 1976 [Johannesburg, South Africa under apartheid]

[] Acknowledgements:

The Night Screams was previously published in:

                The Time Of Our Lives, (black thoughts publications, p91, 1982);
                The Time Of Our Lives (piquant publications, p83, 2007).

initially titled "Night".

© farouk asvat.  All rights reserved.

Farouk Asvat asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
No part of this publication may be reproduced by any means whatsoever, or transmitted in any form or any means whatsoever, mechanical or electronic, including recording, printing, photocopying, or via any computerised means or media, including the internet.  This publication shall also not be stored in a retrieval system.  And the writing shall not be sold, lent, hired, resold or circulated in any form or binding or cover other than that in which it is published,
without the prior permission of the author in writing.
Permission to publish or reproduce the writings in any format can be obtained from the author.
Reproduction of this work without permission, except for scholarly purposes,
is liable to a payment of 10, 000 ren men bi or US$ 1,500.

farouk asvat can be contacted at:                                           farouk.asvat@gmail.com

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