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GOD IN THE GARDEN: a collection of poetry written beyond the surface

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Devon Hewett

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“And we're cheerful, too. You can count on that.' Obligingly she smiled in a neighbourly way at him. 'It will be a relief to leave Earth with its repressive legislation. We were listening OH the FM to the news about the McPhearson Act.' 'We consider it dreadful,' the adult male said. 'I have to agree with you,' Chic said. 'But what can one do?' He looked around for the mail; as always it was lost somewhere in the mass of clutter. 'One can emigrate,' the adult male simulacrum pointed out. 'Um,' Chic said absently. He had found an unexpected heap of recent-looking bills from parts suppliers; with a feeling of gloom and even terror he began to bills from parts suppliers; with a feeling of gloom and even terror he began to sort through them. Had Maury seen these? Probably. Seen them and then pushed them away immediately, out of sight. Frauenzimmer Associates functioned better if it was not reminded of such facts of life. Like a regressed neurotic, it had to hide several aspects of reality from its percept system in order to function at all. This was hardly ideal, but what really was the alternative? To be realistic would be to give up, to die. Illusion, of an infantile nature was essential for the tiny firm's survival, or at least so it seemed to him and Maury. In any case both of them had adopted this attitude. Their simulacra -- the adult ones -- disapproved of this; their cold, logical appraisal of reality stood in sharp contrast, and Chic always felt a little naked, a little embarrassed, before the simulacra; he knew he should set a better example for them. 'If you bought a jalopy and emigrated to Mars,' the adult male said, 'We could be the famnexdo for you.' 'I wouldn't need any family next-door,' Chic said, 'if I emigrated to Mars. I'd go to get away from people. 'We'd make a very good family next-door to you,' the female said. 'Look,' Chic said, 'you don't have to lecture me about your virtues. I know more than you do yourselves.' And for good reason. Their presumption, their earnest sincerity, amused but also irked him. As next-door neighbours this group of sims would be something of a nuisance, he reflected. Still, that was what emigrants wanted, in fact needed, out in the sparsely-populated colonial regions. He could appreciate that; after all, it was Frauenzimmer Associates' business to understand. A man, when he emigrated, could buy neighbours, buy the simulated presence of life, the sound and motion of human activity -- or at least its ​mechanical nearsubstitute to bolster his morale in the new environment of unfamiliar stimuli and perhaps, god forbid, no stimuli at all. And in addition to this primary psychological gain there was a practical secondary advantage as well. The famnexdo group of simulacra developed the parcel of land, tilled it and planted it, irrigated it, made it fertile, highly productive. And the yield went to the it, irrigated it, made it fertile, highly productive. And the yield went to the human settler because the famnexdo group, legally speaking, occupied the peripheral portions of his land. The famnexdo were actually not next-door at all; they were part of their owner's entourage. Communication with them was in essence a circular dialogue with oneself; the famnexdo, it they were functioning properly, picked up the covert hopes and dreams of the settler and detailed them back in an articulated fashion. Therapeutically, this was helpful, although from a cultural standpoint it was a trifle sterile.”

SimulationSimulacrums
Book:The Simulacra
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“Our lives were a complex tapestry, and our woven strands were only meant to intersect at a small number of points in the time-conceived whole. An embroidered starburst, a missed warp, a complicated notion on the loom of time. We were always together, but meant to live our majorities apart, two golden threads wandering through a haunted textile life.”

CompanionshipTapestryWeavingIntersectionsTapestry Of LifeThreadsLoom
Book:Mayfly Requiem
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“TUJHE WAPIS MEIN LAUN KAISE... Tere bin jeena is dil ko sikhaun kaise, Hoon dil shikasta, tujhe wapis mein laun kaise, Tujhe yaad kar k jo girtay hein aansu mere, Dunya walon se unko chhupaun kaise, Baad tere jo kuch bhi hai beeta mujh par, Dastaan wo mein tujh ko sunaun kaise, Wo jo soya tu us din to na utha kabhi, Raha sochta mein k tujh jo jagaun kaise, Poochtay hein yeh jo mujh se k tu kaisa tha, Teri azmat ka inko bataun kaise, Tujhe bichhray ik arsa ab hone ko hai, Magar is dil ko yeh yaqeen mein dilaun kaise, Chehray ki is hansi pe na jao yaaron, Tum ko dil k zakham mein dikhaun kaise, Tere hone se hi hansta tha yeh dil saadi, Hoon pareshan ab isko hansaun kaise…!”

FatherFatherhoodMissing YouUrdu PoetryUrdu ShayariUrduFather S DaySad PoetrySaad SalmanSaad Salman Poetry
Author:Saad Salman
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“Spring Every time, in the same way, the world molds flower buds of yellow mustard from a lump of gold, and the breeze holds them in its undulations. Every time, in the same way, branches laden with sprouting leaves, hug the interweaving pathways. What do they think? Who knows. Every time, in the same way, raindrops filtering through clouds brimming with colour come to rattle against the copper sheet that spreads into the distance. Every year, a season, just like this, every time, this scent of absence, every morning, these harsh tears. When will the times of mourning come? Majeed Amjad”

PoetryUrdu PoetryUrdu
Author:Majeed Amjad
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“ہیجڑے کی سرگوشی ( ہیجڑے کا رجز" کے طنز کے جواب میں ") ! میں اور میرا رجز کیا صدیوں تلک شمشیر تھامے ہاتھ میں ، پہرہ دیا ہے روز و شب محلوں کا تھا میں پاسباں چڑیا نہ مارے پر جہاں ایک وقت تھا یہ دیس تھا جب خوش ادا میں شادمانی کا نقیبِ خاص تھا بے شک ہے مِرے اب و جد کی نسل مجھ میں منقطع بے تخم جیسے اِک شجر معدوم جو ہو جاۓ گا میں " تا قیامت " کے مقابل " مختصر " کی داستاں بس اس لیے سب کی نظر میں ، میں رہا رحمت کے ساۓ میں سدا بھولے سے میری بد دعا لیتا نہ تھا چھوٹا بڑا بدلا جہاں اب یاں فقط اِک شور ہے جن کے دماغ و قلب کی افسردگی ان پر عیاں سنتا ہوں ان کی گالیاں اس دور میں اس شور میں !کیا کر سکوں گا میں بھلا اس سوچ میں تکنے لگا سوےَ فلک میں ناگہاں مجھ کو نظر آنے لگے کڑیل جواں ، کھولے ہوۓ چھاتے ، فضا میں دور سے آتے ہوۓ سوےَ زمیں اور ان میں تھیں دو لڑکیاں آتی ہوئیں ؟آتے ہوۓ ؟ یہ فرق غائب ہو گیا کچھ لوگ تو کرنے لگے آہ و بکا ! ہے ہے غضب ! اندھیر ہے مردوں کے جیسے کام جب کرنے لگیں گی عورتیں یہ ریش ، یہ سبلت بھلا کس کام کی رہ جائے گی کیا مرد ہی اب حاملہ ہو جائیں گے اب ہم مذکر اور مؤنث کس طرح کہہ پائیں گے !ملعون کیا اب مومنوں سے فارسی بلوائیں گے ایسے خیال آنے لگے اور دل کو دہلانے لگے تانیث اور تذکیر میں الجھاؤ پھیلانے لگے مجنوں نظر آنے لگیں لیلیٰ نظر آنے لگے ،پھر مارنے دوڑے مجھے کہتے ہوۓ " بدبخت ! یہ سب ہے فقط تیری خطا " میں ہنس پڑا تالی بجا کر خوش کروں دل آپ کا چُپکے سے پھر اِتنا کہوں ہستی نہیں بس خواب گاہ نظریں اُٹھا کر دیکھ لو نیلا ہے کتنا آسماں میں بھی اُتر سکتا ہوں چھاتا کھول کر دُہراتے رہتے ہو جنہیں شام و سحر الفاظ معنی سے تہی کیا ہو گئے ؟ گردان ہی میں کھو گئے کچھ حافظے پر زور دیں شاید دکھائی دے سکے اِک ذی نفس میں آپ کو نورِ خدا”

LgbtqTransgenderUrdu PoetryLgbtq Community
Book:Tum Kabeer / تم کبیر
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