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Wayne Amtzis
 was
born in Corpus Christi, Texas, in 1947 and grew up in Staten
Island, New York. He studied at Syracuse University and UC
Berkeley and received his masters in Creative Writing from San
Francisco State University. He has lived and worked in Asia
since 1976 and his writing has appeared internationally and in
Nepali translation. He is co-translator from the Nepali of Two
Sisters: the poetry of Benju Sharma and Manju Kanchuli and of
From The Lake, Love: the poetry of Banira Giri. His photos of
Kathmandu appear in the collection flatLine witness and a
book-length series of his poems and photos has been published in
Studies in Nepali History and Society Vol. 6. 1, June 2001. He
is currently working with the poet Purna Vaidya on translations
from Nepal Bhasa. A long-time student of His Holiness Penor
Rinpoche and Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche, he has been teaching
meditation under the guidance of Tsoknyi Rinpoche in Kathmandu,
Nepal since 1996. he can be reached
at-amtzis@info.com.np
These
poems are from a collection entitled A Land Dismissed that
considers the ongoing violence in Nepal including disapearance
and torture. The poems on torture are not specific to Nepal and
focus on the crime in its universal application considering as
well that language itself is implicated and affected by the
torturer's intent and methods.
Poems from this collection have occasionally appeared in the
Nepali Times. Most recently --
From Issue #289 (10 March 06 - 16 March 06)
http://www.nepalitimes.com/issue/289/Literature/11162
Wayne Amtzis' photos and poems can be seen on his website:
www.photo-poems.com
BESTIAL NIGHT
1.
Man on a rack. Man-flanked
They come at you with rammed-in rutted sounds
Gutted O’s, slit A’s
Barked bursts that shatter
and stain the face
they face. (Your face less
and less). As phalanx-ed phrases
break, each hiss seals itself in
Between hiss and sting
mouths full of venom purl and purr
Fearing the tongue, forked,
stammer true, this knotted slit that sheaths the blade
that cuts it open,
leaves you hemorrhaging
Like a child bride
at a gang rape. Surrendered
And alone
2.
Hate hammers a petal into poison,
a leaf into blade. Fluting its force through
as it sinks teeth into bone
Encircled by rat-gnawed light
Booted down, bound there
On all fours, back into bed begging to crawl
Tainted deaths tagged on the fingers
Times three for the thumb
Times ten for the dirt beneath the nails
Dark that spills into dark,
down these gullies roll the deaths
that will not be counted. When will it end?
This madness without counting
This fist without palms
This dirt without mouths to please
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