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 Dec 2018 John Michael Biely
Jen
Optimistic,
The answer to
Every First World woe
That plagues the soul.
Optimistically,
I must wake each day,
As it's hard to tell
What lies ahead, anyway.  
Optimism prevails, always.
If only it was
That simple.
The only answer
Is to see the world
Optimistically.
Easier said than done,
Sometimes,
It flies too high
Like a caught Dragonfly,
Leading to dread and disappointment
When captured in the mouth
Of a ravenous bluish bird, big appetite.
Against all odds,
Remain
Optimistic.
Set the alarm
Lock the doors
Lock the windows
Lock the shutters
Find the cricket bat – “put it by your bed”
Say goodnight to mom and dad

Although young, not naïve
I knew every night had the possibility of being my last

A routine that is now muscle memory.

Fear –
You may think
But life –
Normal for me.

Wake up
Turn off the alarm
Unlock the doors
Open the windows
Open the shutters
Put the cricket bat in the cupboard

Never being able to be left alone at home. Unwillingly dragged from store to store.

But – that’s the thing –
People don’t know the real Her,
They know the exquisite scenery, the unforgettable wildlife
They don’t know… But I do.
Because She is my home
Because being in constant fear for my life –
is normal.

Confused –
What do I tell people about Mother when they ask?
The person who raised me, taught me how to be grateful, how to ride a bike,         how to love.
Do I tell them? Will I scare them?

Although hidden beneath the tyranny – I would say –
the bloodshed
the faces of malnourished children left for dead on the side of the road the poverty struck soil the corruption      the greed the hunger the death the separation of class and race

Although a place feared –
Africa.

My Africa –
Whose sunshine you feel ignited in your soul
My Africa –
Whose smile is irresistibly contagious
My Africa –
Whose heart lies in the grassy terrain
The golden dunes of sand
The never-ending mountain tops
My Africa –
Who is the heart of various people
           cultures
   languages
          All who call Her home.
She is –
Where my heart lies even if I am thousands of miles away
Where my mind wanders from day to day.

Her air, instantly calls you
Her smell, instantly smelt
Welcoming you ever so dearly –
      Home.

Like all good mothers,
She is the one who can handle both the tranquil and turmoil,
the love and war.

She is my home. She is who I fear of disappointing.

My Africa –
is beautiful.
Home sick...
And over time,
My pen stopped bleeding
But my heart didn't
Thoughts of you crackle in my mind,
a roaring fireplace of emotions.
affection,
peace,
care,
love.
Those things which border on obsession
weigh heavily on me
in the best way.
I am pleasantly drunk on dreams.
of what we'll do,
of who we'll be,
of starting anew,
of what you are to me.
You are a thing of beauty.
Those who could gaze upon you and walk away
know nothing of love.
How could they?
The world turns away in horror.
As broken things, unloved they appeared
with blood on their crown the lonely night
uncovered them.
It's deep in their blood
it's deep in their bones
change is deep inside them
that light makes them look exceptional.
Drifting down to another side
relentless they survived.
Hope, love and fate they were named
and none could ever get how perfect
they were when they bloomed in
starlight skies.
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