My mind has since run out of options
And I have to contend with the reality that you're not here,
Laying next to me.
The reality that I won't see you for another few hours.
I hate waking up to an empty bed.
Teeth that sit on her lower lip,
Dark sacs under her eyes,
Black ******* of yellowing *******,
A heavy set smile,
Slim short fingers,
Beautiful fragile feet,
A cup packed ***,
And tender patches.
The disappearing remains of a great battle won
Teary glazed eyes.
Just the way i like her.
I wouldn’t have known these if I didn’t try.
I found a poem on here and decided to write my own version. If you’re the original writer, kindly notify me so I can credit you accordingly. Thank you.
Whilst you were faithful
The sky stayed blue
The sun shone orange
And the moon stood bland
Then she lied
And lived under covers
Relishing every mistruth she uttered
Reliving every moment she deceived you
But it was a shame
Because you could have walked barefoot
Across the glass shards of her previous embittered pasts
You were willing to live beneath the light
But human beings hate having to owe anyone
And they hate having to live confined lives
And so she threw it all in the bin
And opted for a life in-between the sheets
Then things fell apart
And suddenly, she realized that the regret she felt was not of the things in the past
But rather, of the future passed
Of the things that could have been
And not those that had not been.
Like a knife in the woods,
you hunted down the good in me.
That's the name of my town.
There's a path surrounded by yellowing bushes that go green in autumn,
Brown in the harmattan,
that joins Achia to Jato-aka town.
At the head of this path is a junction
You'll notice another path to your left here.
And that our own path is to the right of it
I call it our own because that's the only path followed by the villagers.
The other hasn't been in use in recent years
You can see the undergrowth,
Bent and unrepentant,
Daring you to trample on it and watch it regrow
Everytime we use the right, i always wonder
Where would you lead me to, Left?
Are you like many of our life's (in)decisions,
The unexplored choice?
The one that time will eventually erase?
So I've decided,
That the next time we get to that point
I'll take the road less favored
And see the quiet secrets that it has had to maintain over the years.
And i hope that that will make all the difference to it.
How can you be something when all you do is nothing?
To the niqab girl whom I met in Cagaya De Oro City
You were in front of me as we waited in line for hours
We smiled first politely and then we began to talk,
We Shared different insights in almost everything:
Your face veiling practice in Islam fascinated me
My headcovering as Christian piqued your curiosity
Conversations turned to fashion, extremism, and Filipinos,
You saw my face and I saw your beautiful eyes
Yet we never asked each other's names or Facebook accounts,
We were different yet somehow we mirrored each other;
Different religions yet linked by passion to serve God
Different ethnicity and language yet tied by nationality.
It's been weeks since the Marawi siege and I think of you
Hoping that every niqab girl I see in Iligan is you
We were strangers that rainy afternoon of June 2016
Yet I grieve for your loss - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Words are not enough to comfort you sister of the stars but
May your Allah guide and protect you in these times
May my Jesus cover you with His precious Holy blood,
To the niqab girl whom I met in Cagayan De Oro City
Perhaps we'll never see each other again in the future but
Thank you for letting me see the beauty of cultural diversity
And that coexistence is possible if we have open minds
And living in harmony is attainable if we open our hearts.
1. May 23, 2017 the island of Mindanao is under Martial Law due to the siege of Maute in Marawi City.
2. I never knew her name but I called her "niqab girl" every time I think of her. Despite the chaos in her hometown, I really hope she's alright...
I should have known better
To feel what I feel.
Living is pain.
Death, the final punctuation at the end of this sentence.
Emotional extremity can seem like a resource,
An active requirement.
Something i need to understand my own life,
My poetry and life's choices.
So, yeah, I think of the pain all the time.
But I never blame anyone for my present or past circumstances.
I believe that at the time, everyone did what they felt was best,
This thought-landscape changed my point of view.
Hence, I believe you can manage your sorrows,
Manage your sufferings,
By living in the fullness of life
And being true to yourself.
Or so I thought.
How, how did this happen?
You know you're just fuel...
It's hot and sweaty in the apartment
So i decide to take a walk.
I throw on some slacks and some slip-ons.
Grab my headphones and my iPod.
I'm leaving my phone behind.
I get my car keys then realize that i wont be needing them.
Where are my room keys?
Oh, there's a light on my phone.
Who's texting me at this hour?
I check and it's her,
I'll tell y'all bout her later.
Her message: if you want to go heaven, take my hand. (There's the hand emoticon attached)
I swear i am ******* marrying this girl.
I throw my top off and dial her number.
I guess I should stay in and skype with her.
I guess we'll go on that walk at some other time
Arid Nights in a Nigerian Town