so there was this
prisoner on a drug case
who'd rather watch a painting
than hear his lawyer
argue his case for all those
ten years
perhaps so tired of the drag
and the lull of legal delays
he finally gives up the hope of
his freedom claiming his innocence
all along
angered by the way the police officers
planted the shabu in his pocket while
being handcuffed
the painting was put there by the
judge as a way of making the room
alive
which looks like a doomsday
to all those who had been there
there is this man and woman harvesting
the golden fields of rice
in summer
beside the hills is a nipa hut and by
the window
a little girl is looking at them
above the hut is the blue clouds
the sun and some migratory birds
heading for some unknown destination
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem