it wasn't as though he shoulda seen it coming
(God knows he muddled through that one well enough)
and it wasn't as though he thought it in the bag
(the whole **** thing had always seemed ****** daunting)
but these now recurring tasks
and pop-up commitments
were wavering him
a great big pain the ***
burdensome, machine like
lacking, of any particular meaning
now there was that element of perseverance
that he had read and lectured on (oh, how he had lectured on and on!)
but he was not fully accustomed
(having flown on a wing and a prayer)
to the shattered routines
and fallen plans
and post-mortem like sessions
(seemed easier to stack em up, and
shelve em in a somewhat manageable way)
but a rhythm evolved
in simple momentum, and truth
new plateaus, and revelations
and cosmic events
(which appeared as gifts from above)
and they paved a path to growth
eyes opened, to the wonders of the world!
a grounding in an earthly connection
faith, and fellowship
first steps, compromise
filling the center stage
(in kaleidoscope colour!)
in this glorious
and ever evolving
play of life
was it worth it old friend?
you bet your *** it was!
Into the masquerade
Of her unyielding dream,
I see her flash into ambiguity.
A vestige of fluorescent
Transcendental light particles
Rising into the zenith,
Through a liquescent portal,
Into the reminiscence
Of her fanciful bloom.
I meander through the enigmatic
Labyrinth of her
Through the postern door,
Into a frolic of festivity;
A jamboree of her
A sudden vision
Of our exuberant youth,
The romantic tryst by the fountain.
Our souls interlaced,
weaving in the wind
As we gaze at her fragrant,
The ambience of her earthly silence
Conjures the emergence of a stairway
Into her intuitive star.
Our ephemeral dalliance,
In an evaporating mirage
Of unrelenting fortitude,
Of what was once forgotten.
I take my enamoured bow,
With ardent strings of burning light
And fire fervently to seek
Her euphonious heart.
i find i don’t cry often
and when I do
my ancestors cry with me.
i weep with so many memories
like i’ve finally learned all the reasons why
"I AM YOUR SLAVE NOW DO WHAT I SAY"
I left the plantains you sent me
on the counter. Wiped
around them on cleaning days.
Eyed them as they sat there,
expectant and unwanted,
for hours into weeks.
Let them blacken and soften
until they resembled
the dental records of a corpse.
Were they lifted from the soil
of your Dominican hometown?
Did you farm them yourself?
The bruises speckled on its skin,
were they hand-picked? You always
had great aim with that sort of branding.
I'm awake at the birth of morning,
early enough to see dawn's rosy sun
crack onto the horizon like egg yolk.
From my bedroom window, I can also see
a garbage truck craning its rusty claw
towards the pile I set out last night.
Talk about a metaphor.
I shed pretension like a stunted snake skin
within the vicinity of your warmth.
Chicken soup simplicity, I love the recipe.
Took me ages to find the right stock.
Four-on-the-floor beats the dissonance
of time signatures fighting for dominance.
I've thrown away so much paper for you.
At least a few trees have died in your name.
How selfish. You're lucky I'm sticking around!
And that it takes almost no effort!
That a barely audible suggestion from you
can sink in further than anyone's barking!
Why am I still yelling!
You did this to me!
Coaxed me into cracking
the icy shell I was mistaking
for a safe haven!
How dare you make me realize
that the light at the end of the tunnel
was something other than a freight train?!
You beautiful *******.
You magnificent cur.
I'll never be the same.
With your roasted chestnut
of a personality, how could I not
expect to start thawing?