"If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain"

Emily Dickinson


I vote for you

I'd cast my vote from half way around the globe
For Lim Guan Eng, he stopped our one heart
From breaking, the whole nation from aching, the
Higher cause of Justice from deserting, God from
Forsaking us - our one life

I'd cast my vote from half way around the globe
For Irene Fernandez, she spoke the truth
Though her heart was fainting, and the lying
Government ranting, the whole nation faking
We care what God thinks of us - our one life.

I'd cast my vote from half way around the globe
For Hishamudin Rais, he counted sacrilege
Religious privilege, cooled the anger of hunger
To the affront of the National Front, the Malay
Dilemma of a sovereign watching - our one life.

I'd cast my vote from half way around the globe
For you, if it mattered, You who shall not have
lived in vain, having walked a mile
More than I have had the courage to in bloody
Shoes and fought battles I am afraid to lose

Carried into exile, in His refuge, here I
Hear the gospel of freedom, read the letters
Of our conscience and thank God for you
As you pour yourselves out the lifeblood of the National
Anthem, upon this good earth, my country/Negaraku

I vote for You.


Do I love Malaysia?

Do I love you Malaysia
absolutely
no malicious intent
Do I fail you Malaysia
absolutely
no malicious intent
Do I pain you Malaysia
absolutely
no malicious intent
Do I forgive you Malaysia
completely

I do.
I approach you, reproach you
coax and cajole you, tease you and
touch you, console and extol you

You lay there lulled and lush
A virgin land of God's great quietude,
No man or woman could call you
plain, endure your rainstorms and
remain insane
in my servitude

besotted with lust
I am not
burdened with love
I am
I am
I am

in the jungle fruits fall
orchids burst, durian in
the air fills the cracks
I breathe sharply
straighten my back

yes, my hands hold a pen
an orang utan might attack
I look up I have no defence
only God's call can echo help

the sea of memory wash, wash
washing can throw up a history
I cannot swallow so many tales
blacked and burnished like shoes
and gold

the color of my skin, ke ke ling
black to you, brown to me, color
to them, you engaged me in trade
which swept about us like tide or
the royal ministerial governmental
departmental developmental mental motorcade

I quake. And I'll bet that's no earthquake
to some of you out there in a state
called united states

I reach out grab your torch
me on your porch loving my
land, dying inside

washed up your shore
what fore like lore
do you remember your
brother

long ago he heard a call
perhaps I am he knocking on
your door

I will shine your shoes
suckle your young
I heard a call
freedom was sung

I know, I know many in your
nation were hung but I at home
I am dung, here I know I can come up
a ladder, rung by rung.


We, the people, lie

Of all the lies we refuse to let die
one alone stands true gold capped
gleaming, black like a mountain
in a mouthful of rotting teeth, amid cronies we spew
we believe God, are loyal to our king
and country, are narrowed to our constitution
pray for restitution of law, decry war at all
shrines, are endowed with red blood
run like rivers into an ocean and speak
what lies in our hearts.

ANUSHKA ANASTASIA SOLOMON is a prize winning Malaysian writer and poet in voluntary exile in the United States.