Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Mara Kennet Sep 2013
I wanna smoke a cigarrette with Obama

We’ll lower the sound on Futurama

He will hand me a pack of Marlboro or Newport

He will puff I will puff

Life will be like a resort

We will talk about politics and in vain

Puff again puff again puff again puff again

We would smoke and we would quit

He will swear again

For six years ”no cigarrettes lit”

I will quit smoking too

We will play peekaboo

And turn the volume back up on Futurama

I will boast to my friends

I quit smoking again with Obama
Mara Kennet May 2013
Night is singing blues with wrong falsetto,
In my fingers dies a cigarette,
You’re the one
But why so much directions?
Where are you?
No answer--dead objections.
Earrings and bracelets are my fetters.
You are gone..
But you still breathe in letters.
Here your voice
It’s touching lids of blindness
Here the choice
İmpartial, regardless.
Sew my veins
I need them for tomorrow,
Zip my soul
But don’t unveil the sorrow.
Mara Kennet May 2013
Your tidy soul:
  
   No horror, no fear
  
   No emotions,
  
   No colors,
  
   Only white walls
  
   All sterile
  
   No infection of feelings
  
   And the stench of chlorine
  
   Everywhere, everyday, every moment
Mara Kennet May 2013
Questions
Only questions,
Silly stupid questions.
You know the answers.
I sold my love for nothing,
Got nothing in exchange.
Broken dreams,
Broken hearts,
Broken hopes.
I sold my love;
I am standing outside,
Rain slaps my face,
Yes it’s me
Behind your window,
Touching your shadows
Begging for a drink
I am always sick
And thirsty.
I sold my heart, my pride, my conscience
I tore off my desires,
But their pieces still disturb me
I should have sent roses
To the graves
When you cross my mind.
But.. I sold my mind as well.

— The End —