Previous (page 29)  |  Return to Contents  |  Next (page 31)
(page 30 of 93)

Poem by Mariah Wilson
Previous (page 29)  |  Return to Contents  |  Next (page 31)

Poem by Mariah Wilson

(page 30 of 93)

Keywords: eleventh transmission, poetry, fiction, photography, visual art, spoken word, film, socially engaged,
political, human experience, writing, satire, photojournalism, activist art, activism, socially conscious, art

Mokita: Mokita is a New Guinean word describing the truth everyone
knows but nobody says. I think it’s similar to the English phrase “there’s
an elephant in the room.”


by Mariah Wilson

Heart monitors count down the remainder of her life.
Her body just a shell of the machine it used to be.

“You look great today.”

Their eyes meet, but only for a moment
Anything longer and pain would demand to be felt.

“I brought another book for you.”

Medicine seeps into her blood
It does little for her pain.

“Just shut your eyes and rest. I’ll read it to you.”

He started reading as if it were a bedtime story,
His speech matched the slow beeping of the heart monitor.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,”

Everyone should know the classics.
Explosive aches demand more morphine.

“it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness,”

She wanted to tell him to stop reading
But there were no words, just ideas of words

“it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair”

She thought she heard his voice crack
But everything was fuzzy around the edges.

“we had everything before us, we had nothing before us”

She closed her eyes and knew it was forever.
A thick blanket of sleep crept in closer.

“we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other

Next: More poetry by Mariah Wilson.
Kirk Ramdath's book
This website
©Kirk Ramdath
and specified artists.
Advertise in Eleventh Transmission