Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member

Members

Monalisa Tariro
22/F/Zimbabwe    Voiceover Artist/Spoken Word artist/writer

Poems

Aridea P Oct 2011
Palembang, 22 Juni 2011

Api itu hampir merajai waktu
Merenggut harta benda tanpa ampun
Mangarang tubuh yang sesepuh
Duduk pun terdiam di kursi besi butut

Kekuatan api bagai Sang Supernova
Membumbung tinggi tak ada yang terjaga
Meletup-letup bagai haus dan lapar
Tinggallah hamparan abu di senja tiba

Sebelum fajar menyingsing indah
Berisik di tengah jalan sirine mengulang
Langkah kaki mondar-mandir yang tentu arah
Bergotong royong pun dengan peluh dan baju basah

Ku duduk terdiam terpaku
Setengah melamun di sebelum senja muncul
Ku tersadar pun di tengah padam lampu
Dan ku lihat Monalisa tersenyum pada ku

Ku duduk bersimpuh di kaki
Menunduk dan berharap ini hanya mimpi
Dan aku bangkit tuk lihat situasi
Ku dengar mayat rapuh bagai tiada arti lagi

Tak mampu tumpah air mata
Hanya tubuh kaku mati rasa
Pikiran yang ingin selalu waspada
Mental ini rapuh butuh udara

Abu terasa di mana-mana
Terinjak, menyatu dengan tanah
Menutup mata kini selaalu terjaga
Menjaga hari tanpa Supernova

9 Juni penuh cerita
Di bawah tangisan dan panikan
Wanita memasak dan menjaga anak
Pria bahu membahu membangun rumah
Sydney Victoria Nov 2012
Don't You Dare Speak,
Your Words Trying To Make Blue Streaks,
On The Monalisa Of My Soul,
Black Graffiti Stains My Wishes,
And Teeth Bare At My Well Being,
Am I Daft?
Or Sane?
My Head Pounding With Lyrics,
About How Cruel Life Can Utterly Be,
Sharpie Crossing Out My Faith,
Paint Vandalizing My Mended Heart,
Rust Dressing The Hinges Of My Heartbeat Itself,
And Golden Irises Reset,
Back To Seaweed Green,
Resting On A Bloodshot Background,
Crayons Scribbling On The Coloring Book,
Of My Dreams,
Making It A Midnight Sky Mask,
Flecked With Miserable Maroon Tears,
Slang Covers My Intellect,
Making It Foggy And Usless,
You Can Thank Society,
For Sculpting My Strength,
From A Slab Of Clay,
Burning It In A Kiln,
To The Foundation Of Life,
I Am Art,
Sculpted From The Earth's Face,
Yet I Sit On A Shelf,
Collecting Dust,
And All Of The Arrogent People,
Doodle On My Shell,
Colors Make An Ugly Mix,
On My Bodies Skeleton,
And What Is Making Me Special,
Is Slowly Drowning,
Underneath A Sea Of Graffiti