Peering through a old stone gate,
its face well carved, in prayers attired,
I saw a golden wall of late
before which stood cracked streetlamps retired,
their warming light now long gone
yet they still glow stubbornly on

i have asked but
it remains unclear
if it was planted
purposefully
by somebody
for some reason
unknown to the rest
or merely discarded
within a pile of
offcuts and waste
following a frenzy
of gardening chores
regardless of
whether it was
intended or not
it has taken root
it has bloomed
bright and proud
brilliant cherry red
against dandelion yellow
and uncut-grass green
one solitary red tulip
amongst the weeds

What's the matter with me lately?
I've a feeling I'm no good no more
Should I have a system check
Possibly get the upgrade three point four?

Problem is my hardware is outdated
Not sure what support I can expect
The new software won't install
We're incompatible I suspect.

Time comes and you begin to think
This has truly lost its fun
Now I must watch you from the corner here
How you carry on with a new honey bun.

What a match, oh what a pair,
my broken china doll and I.
Abandoned in dark corners, where no-one ever sees.
Cracks and broken pieces lay scattered on the floor
of a once cherished child and a once treasured toy.
Now you may never see it, but we weep, both her and I
for discarded things have feelings
if not always naked to the eye.
My broken china doll and me
don't understand what we have done.
For objects once dressed up in pretty things
became fragmented, tortured lumps.
It's not always understood,
why we throw away all broken things,
because sometimes they're most beautiful
if we only ever were to look within.
Now we may be broken and discarded,
never to be repaired again
but with a little helping hand, we could learn to grow.
For through our cracks the sunlight could seep,
making us feel whole again.
But my broken china doll and I
maybe too far gone to ever be saved.

In solitary spaces
I find parts noise hid
screaming simulacrum
in broken cobwebs

a life pending
in crevices
sensing
chill

broken
concepts
mantles for
ruptured elements
their soft core exposed

casualties of bloodied past
salvaged fragments
society's furnace
discarded

singing
synths
waiting

A gloomy soul for an unnamed vessel,
A decaying mind with the will to wrestle fate,
Aimlessly walking beyond the scene,
Forgotten or discarded by anyone they've seen,
Just the painful memories, coming from the treacheries,
A sip of hot chokolate makes them think,
Why am I to enjoy this drink,
It doesn't matter, it will never be,
With such determination they must flee,
To a happy place without even dreams,
To an unknown darkness and where it streams,
Not giving up, their will becomes stronger,
Not even accepting this any longer,
Yet, one cannot chose who they are in this world,
Burning my tongue I softly smile,
It's a beautiful day outside.

~ Umi

FLASH

"the exposure looks kinda funny"
"maybe just adjust the aperture a bit"
"add in the lighting"
"is the white balance set?"

the chair squeaks as it moves to the left
the weight shifts the couch in their direction
heat radiates from the family
whose fake smiles are nearly as blinding as the flash from the camera
despite the tripod, the camera sits off kilter
like the uneasy tension in the room
it feels hot--no, sweltering
unsettled emotions sit like
discarded mail
away and out of sight

CLICK

"Okay, we're good"

and the family heads off in their separate ways
with no goodbyes for the others