The Black Fist
clenched in defiance,
Rebellion.
In contrast to the object’s purpose:
To neaten, to clean up appearances
To conform to what society,
Wants
Wants to see
Wants to observe
Wants to believe
But no, it does not conform
The object has a mind of its own.
Becoming a symbol of
Race
Culture
Defiance
Like the fist it shows.
There are so many things we can do together –
Watch TV, curled up underneath a blanket.
Read a book, my arm resting on yours.
Rest my head against you and take a nap.
Every day I come home, excited to see you.
We embrace; I’ve never been more comfortable.
When I leave, I wish you could come with me.
But I know you must stay.
When I can’t sleep at night, you’re there for me.
When I need to cry, you’re there for me.
No matter the time,
I know you’re there for me.
Thank you, my beautiful couch.
I am your caretaker and stapler each and every one of you.
Though I am not your true maker, I will give you meaning
in life. I will give you a permanent home.
Some of you won’t make it that far.
Those with metal legs bent in, and without an owner.
Those shall be cast to the abyss.
While those who are dysfunctional and difficult
will be disposed of
I see you as one of many thousand
journeyman. Your life is short and simple
it ends like all others.
To the iron jaws of a staple remover.
It’s purpose to rip you from your home.
Than cast you of into darkness.
Click!
Stapler to Staple
I lie in the back Of a dusty shelf Lonely and unread, Waiting For someone To notice me.
No one ever does. I am left Alone And forgotten
The saying goes “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Clearly No one listens
For I sit unnoticed A plain brown cover, Holding a story vivid And unread.
Fear,
the only feeling
I have ever
felt.
Waiting…
for ages,
until finally,
nevermind.
Sad,
Stranded,
Forgotten,
Frightened,
my life
miserable.
Bright and early
I am woken with
a splash.
The churning faucet
tells me it is time.
Water all over,
then,
paste,
oozing through
every crevice.
Darkness…
rubbed back and forth,
every second hurts, but
It won’t stop.
Another gush
of water, then
back
to waiting
until nightfall.
My life,
an endless cycle.
I am unable
to escape.
People chase dreams of
white picket fences
and big backyards
and forget they
left their –
Smiles
back in kindergarten,
under the coloring table.
The air sizzled like a pan
Beads of sweat traveling down the trails of their backs
Their mouths tasted of salt
Watering at the wafting smell of barbecue
His board snapped at the grainy cement
They watched him like a hawk
He flew like the birds flying over them
His shirt rippling like a wave
His shadow walked down each step
His board was a show of flips
Everything stopped in awe
Slap!
His wheels smacked the ground
He rode on
Whistles and cheers came from everywhere
“Pablo! Pablo! Pablo!”
An enveloping darkness
With no beginning and no end.
It rules with an iron fist,
Like a dictator with the world at their feet.
You bow down to Its every command
And are blinded like a prisoner seeing sunlight
For the first time in decades
As you realize the limitless
Power It wields over you.
It decides the fate of all that inhabit it,
And could erase you from history
With a mere flick of a finger.
But It won’t.
Because you are
An insignificant speck
On a rock hurling around a dying star.
The world continues
Even if your world has come crashing down.
You will soon be buried by bigger problems
Like the city of Pompeii
Under a layer of ash.
The grains of time are
Slowly slipping away
For you.
Until one moment
When you will cease to exist.
The Universe won’t forget you,
Because it never even knew you.
Long and thin
Sharp on one end
But soft and forgiving on the other
Dull
Until sharpened like a blade
Always
Moving, scratching
Along a blank surface.
Filling the page with dark marks
That fade over time
Never permanent
But always powerful
I like cats
Regardless of their fur color
I listen out for the cautious footsteps
Or try to capture the unpredictable figures hiding in the dark
They peek into world in the gap of times
and draw footprints under the roof of cement
They stand by the gesture of independence
Without abandoning the ambitions of world
Cats are like me
Or I am like a cat
My heart deep inside yearns to escape the earth
But lack of courage to forgive and forget the world
Balance towards the world
People live with the absolute independence
Only see the endless sparks in the mirror
Secular people see the objects themselves only
And the others observe both
Cat and me
We enjoy the morning warm light
and cross through the charming night breeze
Nothing really matters in this world
As long as cat and me continue
Daydreaming by the groovy stove