The Corpse of Hope (Poem)

The Corpse of Hope

by Tim Kavi

the old ones

took me up higher 

on the mountain

and they showed me 

a bag of remains

I said who is it?

they replied

the corpse of hope

I said: why do you show me this?

because it is long absent

from many hearts

in the world

missing from the ideas

and schemes of needy ones

trampled by the greedy ones

thrown away by the winds

of war and oppression

until it has about turned

to dust

bound up in an earthy bag

stirred up by a newcoming flag

and forgotten by many

in the highest places

they imagine they need not see it

and refuse to believe it

the new body of hope

those who cannot see 

those lower ones

I replied how can those 

lower see it

since it is up here?

easy, they replied me

hope has been hidden

by those in power

and repackaged as a lesser hope

one that is devoid of true power

some have called it

the promise of better times

or even the rights

to not be bothered

as long as you do not question

do not ask about

or wonder, 

where has the true hope gone?

then all will be all right

and the wise ones said

but it is for  greater

freedom, some have bled.

then the old ones

said to me, Can these bones live?

and I said only you know

bone to bone

flesh to flesh

the corpse of hope

lives again

becomes a great body

in the songs of protest

and the instruments of change

although those in power

do not freely give it

the body of hope

stirs in the masses that seem

below, hidden

to the asses that gleam

in the palaced abodes

above

until it shatters

the storied glass

windows and hallways

of oppression

while dancing in the streets

the newly empowered

people enjoy the hope

of a new tomorrow

while the others

long for the corpse of hope

and the familiar dusty bag

yet it is no longer found

in their possession.

for hope is a living breathed

out being

in the aftermath of which

there is no deceiving

for the corpse of hope

has been followed 

by the dialectical

birth of social justice.

Poet's Afterword:  On this day that many celebrate as

a day of resurrection, I long that hope too shall live. Another poem of protest.~~TK

eyes of the Dancing Woman (new poem)

eyes of the Dancing Woman

by Tim Kavi

enchantress, your eyes

catch me in moonlight

gentle orb

dancing there

sweet boundless moves

love is in the air

they flutter

bending me into

other dimensions

of divine light

eyelids blinking

wide awake in Night

the gentle rapture

of passion's drawing

song; sings heavenly

movements of power

where from afar

I know not the hour

I dared to look

into your Divine Soul

I am your sacred viewer

and saw your all

as your steps lit

the sacred hall

some say they were

smitten by a dancing

kitten; made perfect

in love hypnotized

not realizing your Greatness

had already mesmerized

I remember; your look

while your body below

contorted; in Divine

dancing soul

candle light romancing

glow; lit my heart whole

until I knew

all was undone

and uncovered

I cannot bear this alone

my love's secret

is in your dancing home.

Little David and the Dancing Monkey (Story Poem)

Little David and the Dancing Monkey

by Tim Kavi

when across the eddying

spheres of time

there is an existence in

a moment

between young and old

is it the generations

talking?

or just me myself

longing for something I knew

or making sense of what

I am taught

the clever young minstrel did sing

and dance

doing battles for the great

and good

on a journey to the West

Are you me?

The minstrel asked.

No, I am Sun Wukong.

I use my skills

like this...swoosh swoosh

swoosh!

I see! Said the minstrel

preparing his stringed

instrument

I am named after you, though

I am your nephew

Little David

Uncle David smiled

chuckled

and said: You were dancing

quite a bit

let me sing you a song

while you rest

Oh? You play the guitar!

My father told me

Oh, what a treat!

It is my own Journey to the West

while my guitar gently weeps

playing notes of blest or blast

roaring like a stratocaster

but please be calmed

and like a David and his harp

soon the notes filled the air

with sweet sounds

of poetry flying there

the young Sun Wukong

could not stop himself

he danced and twirled

like some Dervishes

from another place

"I can tell you are a legend

You should never settle for less

hang on to the skirt of existence

such preciousness in Guan Yin

rises to meet you

and bless"

Uncle David did sing!

while the prettiest sounds

that little boy

ever heard

the Fender did bring

and when the song ended

the little dancer

that Monkey King

had tears in his eyes

Oh Uncle David!

You sing so nice.

Thank you so much!

Uncle David smiled

No problem, he said

at that moment

Little David's father

entered the room

Father! Father!

Uncle David sang me a song

and played his guitar

You were right!

Yes son, life is great

art and love

and family and truth

are all around us

to Uncle, father said

Thank you!

It's great to see you!

Uncle David smiled

Father said

Little David's mother

had prepared

an evening meal

a supper for a dancing monkey

a skilled minstrel

a poet father

two brothers

and a clever child

Father??

Yes son?

After supper

may I show Uncle David

my moves

with my monkey stick?

Yes son,

but please be careful

you can put an eye out

with that thing!

everyone laughed.

ashes beneath the boots (new poem)

ashes beneath the boots

by Tim Kavi

marching triumphant

fists in air

you take the hill

overrun the square

but in your heart

is a vacant stare

You dismember

yourself

unmoved by human

compassion

there is only

your training

reduced to a number

your uniform

makes you look like

all the rest

you think you are

anonymous

so easily forgiven?

that only you will be blest?

that face shield

doesn't hide you

full metal jacket

you better carry

a long club

because someday

you will reap what you sow

brutal taskmaster

on the day

Freedom Rings

when the freed man sings

when women walk

the streets

no longer afraid

when you

and the hate of the old

ways are crumbled

stomped beneath our feet

as we peacefully walk

the freshly cleaned street

beneath my boots

I still see that You

who said I was not a person

has become all the ashes 

of a history not forgotten

while up ahead

precious souls

you once tormented

are dancing

in peace, at long last

in love with each other

and so very free.

Poet's Afterword:  another poem of protest which will be in my forthcoming collection 'Poems of Protest' by Tim Kavi. Long live freedom and love! ~~TK 

Flamenco Rose (Poem)

Flamenco Rose
by Tim Kavi

there is a rose
that some say
is beauty all by itself

but there is a greater
rose than this

and that is the rose

in your hand
in your hair
in your teeth

as you danced
under the moonlight

it is beautiful

and yet adorned
more beautifully

with your love

and with your kiss!

Poet's Afterword: This is a short simple poem. However, there is more than one dance form that uses a rose, and this poem refers to them both in the actions described. I am referring not only to the Flamenco, but to the Tango as well.

Latest Poem: Watching Dancers with Poet's Afterword

"Watching Dancers"
by Tim Kavi

sweet dancers
we behold you
lovely romancers
your love is
ballads
and poems
in view

your gliding
feet
compose all
the words
so sweet

that we
cannot think of
anything but you

your joint
love
turns time
back
restores
youth
saves
the dying

we are
students
in your
dancing
lessons

with great
efforts
trying
to copy your movements
on the floor!

even the
meek
can see
that
your love
can speak
in songs
never sung before

for your
dancing
love
is in
the heavens
declared

as angels
and longing
mortals
stared

we are
all
taught by
you

and even
if for
a moment
loved

if we dared.

Poet's Afterword:

inspirations to write this poem: the other night I was watching a Fred Astaire movie..it made me think of Astaire and Rogers, Gene Kelly etc. Need I say more? :-)
As I saw the movie I was inspired. Also, something very specific happened during one of my recent trips to China. In September 2007 when I was in Xian, I had gone out with some friends from the University (my teacher friend Darrel and his GF, and a mutual friend Miss Li). There was an older couple there, and we were all listening to a very nice bar band at a very nice tourist hotel in Xian. The older couple to our surprise got up and did some ballroom dancing beautifully and flawlessly. We were all inspired. They were so obviously in love each dance was filled with poetry in motion. I have never forgotten it... -- T.K.