Left hemisphere right hemisphere
My bodily controls pulled by dual strings
My father so stern and manly
Mother sweet and insipid
Father so bombastic yet weak
Mother nerves of steel
Nature has an underbelly
What is on the surface
Is the denial of
what lies beneath
Libido
Passive aggressive
Love
War and peace
Eros and Thanatos
Mars and Venus
Voices within my head
You’re whistling in the wind
Dreamer
Be careful
What you wish for
Not because it could come true
But because you know not
What transpires
From simplest atomic fission
To mushroom cloud
From genetic engineering
To seeds of doubt
Monstrosities abound
Demons making love
To angels
Humans arise from such
Falls.
Language langorous displays
Lagoons and lacunae
The blank revelations greater
Than the black bustling ants
Crawling abysmally clamorous
Doing business
But doubts pool amidst certainties
Like stark white emptiness.
We read life
In between
The lines
Where divisions collide
Unity in ink
The ilk of
Graceful collusion.
Lend us the usurper’s usury
The victims of acquiescence
Victorious
The imperialist inheritance
Bloodless acquisition.
The meiosis and mitosis of civilizations.
© Amrita Valan
Excerpt form the book âDivided Lines â A Poetâs Stanceâ
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Foreword . . .
In a world of ever increasing advances seemingly created to make our lives easier to manage, envisioned to bring us together, to draw us closer, we are still in many instances isolated and at odds and validly apart. Something is missing, there is a snag, a rip, a hole in the spiritual fabric that we all see; yet we continue to fail to address.
 It has been said by self-proclaimed philosophers, theologians, scholarsâ and politicians that the abuse of words can be a danger, there are those that believe words are a leading factor in what ills our society. Of this we do not deny in full, there have been abuses, history is but a melody to that fact, yet it is also true that words have the innate capacity to bridge, to heal that which divides.
 Opinions, views, religions, nations, people, even love divides. The focus of this book and the poets here in, is to give breath to a wide range of issues both small and controversial that lie beneath the surface. Things that we are often hesitant to discuss. In saying that, I will offer that the role of a poet is not to persuade or to add more rhetoric to the static we hear. A poetâs responsibility is to shine the light of awareness, to create a platform for dialogue, for healing, to gather up the images in an attempt to understand what we see.
Demitri Tyler, Author
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