Posted in Current Affairs, Literature, Philosophy, Poetry, Relationships, Society, tagged absorb, air, away, between, break, chameleon, clearing, cloak, closer, clouds, cobwebs, disgust, divide, doubt, down, everyday, eyes, fill, flesh, frost, honesty, inch, intention, keep, me, mirror, moondust, naked, need, night, opaque, part, pass, poem, poetry, refract, reptile, sandblast, seen, shadow, shield, sincerity, skin, slight, smoke, something, squeeze, stark, stranger, strip, thoughts, through, transparent, understand, unlock, us, visible, want, way, wear, words, you on April 30, 2010|
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Here I am, intending to break
your mirror in my disgust.
By letting you understand
my need to understand you.
I am squeezing and inching
my way closer to your smoky eyes.
As I am trying to pass through
but you won’t absorb. Me.
There’s a part of you
I can’t unlock. You won’t
let me fill. I am a stranger.
You shield something away
like the night clouds. That even
the slight sincerity of words
were moondust refracted
into the air. I keep on clearing
the cobwebs of frosted thoughts
and sand-blasted shadows
of doubt between us.
Let me stripped you down
stark naked. Fleshing you
out of your reptilian skin.
Your chameleon cloak you keep
on wearing everyday I don’t need.
What needs to be visible- be seen,
transparent and undividing.
I want your honesty.
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Narrative of the Wounded
Posted in Books, Current Affairs, Film, Literature, Memoirs, Poetry, Politics, Relationships, Religion, Social Commentary, Society, tagged ache, against, backdrop, bandage, bitter, blood, bullets, captive, char, clouds, color, dark, discontent, edge, emotions, fighting, floating, flow, fray, freedom, grafitti, hand, held, hemorrhage, history, hope, house, innocence, lean, logical, loyalty, man, narrative, paint, passages, peace, poem, poetry, rhetoric, ruins, sanity, scar, seasons, soak, spiritual, stop, streams, sunlight, surface, vivid, war, weather, white, winning, within, wood, wounded, wrap on September 20, 2013| 2 Comments »
Wood scars fray the edges of a sanity-
house paint color gave up its loyalty
to the surface weathered by seasons.
I am a man who leans against the backdrop
of grafittis’ with vivid emotions of discontent.
About an aching hand, bloodied by history
wrapped in white bandages soaked
in spiritual rhetoric. It didn’t stop
the bitter flow. This hemorrhage.
While bullets of sunlight streams within
dark passages to freedom fighting,
floating clouds above charred ruins.
The innocence held captive
in the hopes of winning
a logical war for a bitter peace.
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