Walking back

Uncategorized

Walking back
under overcast
summer skies
beneath a tangled
canopy of pine trees
two objects lied abandoned
beside a mud dirt track
One, a birthday balloon
red, barely bloated
sending its rainbow
greeting to passersby
The other, a diaper
cotton body mutilated
but still intact
fragments waving
in the wind
designing the soil
in spots of bleached white
‘People who walk this trail
are usually clean’
my companion remarked
All the while an unexpected
chill seized our sensitivities
with the heavens preparing
to play a melody of rain
over our uncovered heads
But we trooped on
Our footprints lifting up
the ground’s agonies
‘Till tar and cement ––
the soil of man ––
carried the burden
of our soles home

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Week 2

Life, politics

 

Week 2

She said she can’t write
In light of current events.
Like what’s going down
In Ferguson and the Middle-East
Is making her sick of words,
Sick of thinking her words
Won’t turn this tumultuous
State of affairs around.

I do pray she writes again
and mends a creative soul
broken by the news reels.
I pray she knows that hope
Still lives among us.

Lessons

Uncategorized

 

Lessons 

Remember.

Remember

Remember.

History

repeats

itself

like

re-runs

of

TV

episodes.

Only this

generation

can

compose

a new

refreshing

script.

Open session

Poetry

 

Open session

Let us talk

though awkward things

might leave our lips.

Let us speak

like silence could snatch

away our final breaths.

Let us share

though the key to vulnerability

be one word away.

Let us discuss

like our shared knowledge

could set us both free.

Let us be real

for outer lies can’t forever hide

the rot and decay that ravages

inside.