i am a door
i am a door ...
i am caught between two rooms
swinging from one to another.
grasping moments as the wind
sways me from the first to the next.
living, loving, caressing life in each
taking a little from one
and giving to the other, and back.
i hear the strains of my mother's voice
over the aroma of the eggplant curry
wafting over my father's intense study
of the Indian Express -- his favorite newspaper.
the aunts and uncles came in droves
to my sister's wedding to eat
and gossip during the ceremony,
and through the night.
glimpses of life ... very Indian.
in the other room, the surrond sound
heard Simon and Garfunkel over troubled waters,
while Pink Floyd cried about the walls in our lives.
Simpsons and Butterfinger were definitely in
as Gore and Quayle babbled using innocuous verbiage.
the computer was never shut off
as reams of paper saw term papers
discuss new ways to communicate.
glimpses of life ... very American.
between these two worlds
i am happy, confused, angry
And in pain -- all at the same time.
for i am a door caught between two rooms.
i see and feel both of them
but i don't seem to belong to either.
The Courter - East, West
But, I too, have ropes around my neck, and I have them to this day, pulling me this way and that, East and West, the nooses tightening, commanding, choose, choose.
I buck, I snort, I whinny, I rear, I kick. Ropes, I do not choose between you. Lassoes, lariats, I choose neither of you, and both. Do you hear? I refuse to choose.
