A Cursed Poet
The curse goes like this
“words will forever haunt you, wherever you are, words will be your graveyard, for this entire reincarnation”
These words follow me wherever I go, Wherever. Whenever.
They go through my blood, my breath, my pores. My belief.
I will go through many births, many deaths, many lives in between
But the words are there, forever there
You will owe your generations the curse that will pass down through your words
In the awareness of this curse, she sat by herself again and again, breathe again and again, being a mother again and again, through many reincarnations, again and again
Now you are a mother of a family of words
Husband, a poet
Yourself, a poet
Your son, a poet
Your daughter, a poet
Your friends, your friends are all poets
Drawn by universe, you all sitting under trees, figuring out why on earth we meet again, through many reincarnations
Again and again
I met you. You are my friend, from other lives.
We have met over and over again
Do I owe you words?
Yes, bring me back stories that you borrow from me thousand years behind
You said, you are a mother of two, one is burning her own tongue to death, one is hanging herself naked. I left, I could not remember my own story from the past.
You owe me that story, please
The burdens I hold, for deaths after deaths of my loved ones. I could not bear to tell.
And I left. I met another friend. You are familiar. Do you owe me words.
Yes, I am the one whose husband is a narcissistic and always needs sex every second
The man who sniffed at every inch of my skin, and sucked my entire pores that left me dry and drained.
Can I give you my entire story?
I listened and cried, and left.
I went home, met my husband,
He is as always, sitting at the same spot, forever
I asked him, what if we are not married at all, or what if I am not your wife at all
It is not possible, he said, we will meet somehow
We will surely meet
Because we are cursed?
Because we are cursed.
And many words haunt me. There is this burning hair woman who chased me everywhere as if I owe her my hair to be burnt
There is this burning tongue man whose words burn me every time I see him
There is this water sinking mother, who drowned me over and over again
There is this too much to handle woman who thinks her life is the most miserable of all
There is too much competition of being the saddest saddest human being
As if we are not cursed at all!
Damn human, we are here because of the words!
What else do we think we are here for
Hell and heaven are slices of breath
We should have been in heaven
But hell are we here together now
Cursed poet you are, you take words personally
Too much
For too many mirrors make no better person
For this curse still has long way to endless lives and endless reincarnations
Sang Hyang Candra
Taranggana
Rikala dipa, mamadangi
Rikalaning wengi
Moon, give me light through this reincarnations
All the cursed soul will find better and better, lighter burden to bear
A cursed poet, sat by herself, in total silence, breaking her own words, again and again
She heard the curse passed down from generation to generation, that she will not be free forever
(Written and performed in Asia Pasific Writers, Chiang Mai Thailand, November 23-24, 2024)
