Whereyourlipsbegin

Search This Blog

the pain

on November 30, 2023

Get link
Facebook
X
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps

Befriend the pain–
it is but a cover,
a heavy metal cloak.
In it are messages,
a crooked compass,
leading to a side
where the sun is rosy,

and green is gold.

Get link
Facebook
X
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps

Comments

no one to blame

I cry I weep and there is no one to blame there is no one to blame I know there is no one to blame. I weep and there is no one to blame I look up at the white plastered ceiling I speak to it Through it "Take it away Please." There is no one to blame My mother was sad My father was hurt My grandfather too His mother as well There is no one to blame I carry it I weep I love them all and I weep There is no one to blame Then I meet this adaptation of them I’m hurt I cry I weep He is not to blame He is playing his role so gracefully -oh so gracefully- and forgetfully as we had agreed as he had promised He is not to blame I chose him I To cleanse To cry and weep And to forgive them all.

home

Home is yellow, and light, vast, yet everyone gathers too close sharing almost one warm breath. and so, it all shrinks to a few blankets, and a window, one cypress tree, a few green tiles and a whistling kettle. Home is where we suffocate with laughter, where we feel okay – that everything will be okay, while the world breaks outside the kettle is louder, and the laughter a shield.

we move

three years later a bunch of mabrouks as if it's a success just like a success cost sweat, tears, and a whole lot of investing the celebratory moment is a sad consequence yet we move is a thin timid root growing? or a happy baby bourgeon blooming? does the bourgeon need a root?

Powered by Blogger

the pain

Comments

Post a Comment