Martin Carter

Rookie (1927-1997 / Guyana)

Do Not Stare At Me - Poem by Martin Carter

Do not stare at me from your window, lady
do not stare and wonder where I came from
Born in this city was I, lady,
hearing the beetles at six o'clock

and the noisy cocks in the morning
when your hands rumple the bed sheet
and night is locked up the wardrobe.
My hands are full of lines

like your breast with veins, lady -
So do not stare and wonder where I came from
My hands are full of lines
like your breast with viens, lady -

and one must rear, while one must suckle life...
Do not stare at me from your window, lady.
Stare at the wagon of prisoners!
Stare at the hearse passing by your gate!

Stare at the slums in the south of the city!
Stare hard and reason, lady, where I came from
and where I go.
My hand is full of lines

like your breast with veins, lady,
and one must rear, while one must suckle life.


Comments about Do Not Stare At Me by Martin Carter

  • Veteran Poet - 1,327 Points Saadat Tahir (7/1/2009 2:22:00 PM)

    hi martin...its very very nice...very deep and meaningful...done superbly
    i liked it vey much

    cheers and ten (Report) Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie - 40 Points Ashraful Musaddeq (5/25/2009 1:15:00 PM)

    An excellent poem. Love with 10++ (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Sunday, December 23, 2007

Poem Edited: Tuesday, May 3, 2011


[Hata Bildir]