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 Sep 2020 Delton Peele
Ayesha
Haunting nights, wild winds
snarling skies in seas ablaze
I once burned a poem.
Ashen metaphors creeping in my sleep.
 Sep 2020 Delton Peele
Ayesha
A war broke out inside my head
an enraged battle fought at my birth.
A battle won but ever lost or so the legend goes.
Decades have passed since the first ever scream,
but the ashes of children still tickle our noses.
Maidens still shudder at sight of red leaking from butchered goats
Remnants of soldiers still hide behind darkened caves.
Sometimes a bone or two is found; mostly mere teeth.
They’re placed in dirt without any tears or mourns
for no one knows and those who do are far gone.

A war broke out inside my head.
They say people fought people with people as weapons.
The battle was won and ever lost
for no one was dead who had not killed
and no one lived who had not died a little
Our fathers fought our lovers’ fathers or so the legend goes.
Farmers still freak out over shooting stars
they’ve witnessed many that didn’t stop in the sky.
Veterans still get caught staring at voids.
Graveyards are full, insects are full,
bodies lay impatient to be gnawed away.
Rivers are full, fish are full, no one dares find out with what.

A war broke out inside my head.
They tried burying the bloodstained spears
but every flower seems made of flesh, every leaf a forgotten scream
No hands were shook, no promises signed;
the battle ended when the fighters did or so the legend goes.
Kids begin sobbing at quietest of sounds,
folks have forgotten all lullabies
Nights are awoken by shrieks of asleep,
cannons still snarl in cloudy dreams.
Halls still reek with smell of hunger.

A war broke out inside my head
and though emotions have long made up with thoughts,
memories still sway free with sewed up faces and missing limbs.
People stopped speaking of days long gone
but the air still echoes with tales unheard
Skulls of friends were stollen of brains,
limbs of children were cooked on coals, or so the legend goes.
Buildings shoved to the ground, graves robbed of beings
The battle was won and ever lost.

A war broke out inside my head
and though the sky still shudders with the silence of ground
We’re trying. Trying to make sense of the winds
Trying not to connect tides with sunken ships,
overflowing with sons and daughters and wives.
A battle took places some ages ago,
and though we still confuse chopped lambs with—
We’re trying. Brick by brick, we cement this rubble back to shops
Seed by seed we’re replanting our orchards.

A war broke out inside my head
And though old men still tremble at unusual of times,
Children still struggle to tie their shoes,
women still run fast through empty streets
and fathers still weep behind the doors, we’re trying.
Ash by ash, we’re sweeping away the left out war.
The battle sailed off and though the war goes on
We’ll die bringing this kingdom back to life.
We're fallen men among cindered thrones, but
feather by feather we'll rebuild our wings.
Flutter by flutter we'll reach the sky

So, please hold on.
There's so much left.
It matters not where
your bones lay
or your dust settles

Fond memories of
happy times and
neighbourly deeds

Judge your time and
the value of your life
 Sep 2020 Delton Peele
Jackal
A long inhale, and nicotine
brings me the numb that I
so desperately need.

Sometimes, I have to
feel my own heartbeat, just to
remind myself that I am alive.

I often have to think about breathing
so that I remember to
keep myself going.

If not for me, the most
definitely for him.

Even though I am a vile creature
full of hatred and self loathing
I could never bring myself to hurt you.
 Sep 2020 Delton Peele
Ayesha
Quiet
 Sep 2020 Delton Peele
Ayesha
If words were music
all the ones inside my head
would still be chaos
locked up somewhere inside this ******* mind, some sleeping, some screaming, some hopeless, some flapping their wings; oh how lovely it feels to be a prison.
I spend too long thinking about words.
About what to say, when to say it,
When to get the words out of my head
That choke me, suffocate me,
Put me in desperation,
Sadness, need, greed.
I shove them down my throat and hope
They will keep me going for a while.
I consume my language quick
So I can't move or breathe or see,
Words filling me from tip to toe.
On a vacant breath I will spill into your mouth
My poetry and lust, predate upon
Your silence. Know that this is just
Temporary.
Fleeting.
Almost over.
Almost.
Jul 2018
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