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Posts Tagged ‘steel’

I am perched here inside with distances to roam

only my eyes can see. You are out of reach.

The wind blows from distances afar

bringing me in yesterday’s news. It’s cold.

And the noise reverberates like a broken record.

 

Tell me about freedom. Day in, day out.

Of walking in circles, and the light travels into the night.

Tell me about resilience. No matter how it looks-

a hard shell but brittle and fragile within my mind

where it builds edifices of dreams. Towering

 

over my need  to run away and get lost

untangled into distances unhindered.

Restrain my hand from gripping the bars

of steel I layed propping up my self-esteem.

I will run untamed like a wild horse.

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Not a soul passes by but me

cradled on this steel machine

hugging the asphalt hard

chase the broken lines

fading into the infinite sky.

 

I see the tyre burning marks

like tattoos criss-crossing,

shifts of directions of going

and coming into your life.

 

A rugged kind of art

you have mastered

with speed. I surrender

to freedom, leaving

traces indelibly

creating loops-

togetherness

under heat

pressed

suffocated

in our bodies.

 

Raw, savagely

carefree.

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I hear them screaming through

the sound of falling and splashing

and stumbling down staircases.

Of mangled steel twisting glass

and concrete skins ripping away

from the building’s skeleton.

 

I hear the slithery rush of jet fuel

scrambling down chases and elevators

at first and second impact, the aftershock.

Igniting fireballs through the hallway.

Explosions rocked the foundations

trembling in little earthquakes.

 

I hear the mad stampede roar.

I hear the panic bars unlatch.

Then the cacophony of sirens,

the tolling of alarm bells,

the symphony of shock,

the avalanche of horror,

the carnage of the missing,

and the agony of the trapped.

 

I hear them- peoples of the world,

helpless among the tangled mess

of floor slabs toppled like a deck of cards.

The gradual weakening of their hearts,

the whispers in pain, the unison in prayer.

The slow fragile breaths silently eroding

and extinguished like wisps from a candle.

 

I hear the distant cries of children

who lost their fathers and mothers.

The anguish of fathers and mothers

losing their children in the rubbles.

The lamentations of men and women

losing their wives, their husbands,

their brothers and their sisters.

 

I hear them all within the sound of the water

trickling down over the polished slabs of stones.

I hear them while I listen in the reading,

of engraved names whose innocent fates

were like the powdery dusts in mid-air

frozen, suspended, undiminished in time.

 

I hear the grieving sighs. The silent tears.

The ashes of remembrance, the memory.

The extraordinary day when the world

will never forget the ground zero.

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Mid-air  in my waking dream

are clouds and clouds away.

Like migratory creatures

homing their way into

transient frontiers.

Lulled by the rhythms

of the humming steel.

It churns anxiously, and

earnestly of home.

 

While the hands of time

back paces into

a counterclockwise.

The book of days

Suddenly flipped

to a journey of old memories.

Of  some silky threads

of years slipped through

in a hindsight.  As if

I didn’t left yesterday.

 

Then, something in me

fluttered like a fly.

Or is it really?

Touching down

this imagination to a farce.

 

As I watch the blue sea

became the bleakest

monotony of rust-colored roofs.

And the bumpy runway

made me remember

of the past.  That is much more likely-

today.  When nothing ever happened

to the ones I left behind- yesterday.

 

The gossamer of traffic.

Life entangled mazes

survival in the loop.

Sleep walking and heady

as the smog filtered

in my nostrils.

A reality I denied to believe.

Have I gone too far?

Too fast. Too soon.

As if I didn’t left?

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The walls are coarse to touch, hard and steely,

it was a challenge not to see but to feel with our fingers

sharp points that will prick a skin and bleed. By then

the grave of the earth has avenged its loss. The stair

is a winding wonder of wooden realm. Forest scent

permeates like sweat staining musk to the olfactory.

Curtains we plucked from the fibers of the grass

that exist  in some temperate savannah, polished

and handwoven by the nomads of Siberia.

The glass came from the silicates we scoured

from the rivers of Babylon, coal-fired in a furnace

by a hundred men impoverished with ten cents an hour.

And the floor is a polished limestone quarried

from some majestic mountains of the Far East. White,

cold slab, for our feeble feet resting on a tombstone. The chairs

are fabricated in hides separated from the meat of animals

domesticated and cultured for a trade in an African jungle.

We commercialized the organic in the will of the greedy generation

crazy for the avant garde. We are fond of collecting. Prized.

Natural. Unique. All, for the sake of a want  that cannot be satiated.

And at a cost, we hunger for more as we build our little kingdoms,

looking for some definition. Until we find that there is no more left

of the skin of the earth, we have stripped of its clothing

to cover our shelters.  Unless we travel to the moon

digging kryptonites to embellish facades of our own vanities.

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I am smoldering in the night.

But you’ll see no passion, only sober

semblance to a gargoyle, seating.

And towering over the city lights.

 

Ah, the fahrenheit must have drop

below sub-zero. My steely psyche

a block of ice emitting smoke,

numb in whiteness. I froze.

 

Ignite me a matchstick. Tell me

what you see when melancholy

lurks slowly in my bones. Splintered

cinders, then into ebony parchness.

 

Ah, am I a comet zooming, as it hits

your universe then dissipate like a frizzle?

Imagine  me as a flame of a dying star-

morose. Traversing your love’s black hole.

 

You didn’t know how hard to contain

my tamed affection. You just didn’t know.

I am smoldering in the night, but

you’ll see no passion. I am sober.

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Ten years. This was how long, I have mended a broken heart. I have kept something deep inside me a special spot that no one could ever find. A spot that I have built for myself a castle of dreams of many “could have been”.

There are no words could ever describe a deep yearning. Where pain emanates from my eyes and trying to conceal them through laughter.  Sealed them carefully through the passing of time. That was the hardest and have made me unbreakable like a steel.

The throbbing of the heart. The drifting memories.  And the sweet surrender. It is the heart that never forgets.  It is the soul searching for its beloved.  And the mind that has conjured thousand images of make-believe.  Hoping that this time, it’s for real.

Like a fragile glass. Precious to behold. It is all I am keeping within these hands. As if eternity will remember a love treasured, labored and accepted. A sacrifice that is worth the lifetime of happiness. Of this imperfect world. Of this imperfect being.

If paradise is here within me. Then I must be contained. But in chaos and the world’s maddening crowd, the memory of you serves as an inspiration. An escape. A beautiful dream. In you I find redemption from my fallen self.  I find peace like gentleness of the seawaves  crashing on my shore.

It is like finding a jewel that once lost.  It is like a lonely harbor waiting for the ship to come.  It is like the rose that never withers.  And if that comes. That day. That day. I cannot tell anymore if it is just a dream or a reality.  I cannot tell anymore if it is pain or happiness.

I will be lost. And cannot be found. If that happens, just hold my hand and wake me up. Help me believe it’s worth the wait.

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