During our recent, year-long pandemic imprisonment, my room - which, objectively, is a very nice room - seemed to transform, late-nights, into a tomb. I had to open all the windows just to feel like I could breathe.

Night after night, when the lights were out, I’d lay perfectly still, perfectly awake until all-hours, listening to crickets. There must be a billion of them in Georgia.

Persistent consciousness can drive you mad.

“Why are your windows open?”, my mom would say, hurrying to close them in winter (to save heat) and summer (to save cool).

I wouldn’t argue - I’d just shrug, wordlessly and reopen them once she left. I seldom argue anymore - I surreptitiously do whatever I want to.

I feel like I'm the only one
who really cares
about the pandemic.

I feel like I'm the only one
who is scared
to infect someone I love.

I feel like I'm the only one
who sees
that a storming is coming.

I feel like I'm the only one.

Dear God I thank you
for every single precious breath
And when you'll place us in paradise
   We shall thank you then for death.

People round the world gasping for breath, breathless,
short of breath, some unable to catch their breath,
       some breathing their last,
some on artificial costly breathalysers .
How many times do we thank God
for the countless free breaths we breathe our entire life??
Oxygen o2 more valuable and scarce than diamonds nowadays.
         Respiration, the main need of all life
Those who eventually recover from covid and find their breath again
             can finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Yet heavenly sights in paradise  will be sure
  to take our breath away anyway.

           Life or afterlife
      Here and hereafter
   Life's a gift from God
Now and thereafter
Why end it here and now
Why not extend fun and laughter?
When my DNA and RNA expires with me
  May God Resurrect and revive it in me
I live and die for an extension of life in afterlife
   God grant me that part eternity
To search for the meaning and purpose of life
   is to search and find the Creator of all life
      i know there's out there somewhere
     in Allah's universe, a heavenly portal
      that will lead me to eternal bliss
            designed by Allah the immortal.
Imagine a perfect heavenly life with no fear , death or problems
That's a life to die for, when Allah transports us to those realms.

    An abode with no sickness or illness
Only peace and total eternal happiness
No viruses but rather real flying horses like real Pegasuses
   We could get to ride and fly the universe
   with angelic wings without planes or buses
But you have to work to earn and deserve that heavenly paradise
        Just follow God's latest holy book, so perfect and so wise.

There is a world outside my window
it screams and rushes and roars  
Relentlessly in motion
a ceaseless current
of to and from
coming and going (“Wynberg !?”)
that batters against my walls
Even the trees
thrash about
in an angry hurried cadence
“You must not keep still!” everything shouts
Yet I remain
in stasis
cut off from the boundless energy
that proudly moves on and on and on

The world is a dark and complicated morass,
Wherein countless lost children pass
In and out of the shadows and greet each other with a smile or a nod.

Isolated, lonely little hearts playing
With complex emotions in a word staying
Abreast of all the troubling events for better or worse.

Light and laughter dwells but a moment
In tender unions just before fears foment
A cascade of ****** worries filling up the eternal halls.

Then a single flame at first finds another
Huddling in the dark over scraps Mother
Left for kindling a fire in the depths of destitution.

At first the two but soon three and more
Shelter the faltering fire taking hold for
Reviving communion among the distanced souls.

As more join a bonfire starts and talking
Not just of pleasantries you hear while walking,
But of sincere connection between scared children discovering they can conquer the dark.

Some children still pass in the dark hall,
Knowing not the darkness nor how small
They really are in the scope of the full extent of the world.

But every once in a while, more often as it grows,
A child stops and really sees what the others chose
In banding about a fire fueled by the scraps of a difficult time.

I miss wet rain on buses
I miss crowded subway stairs
I miss noisy streets in public
I miss breathing ocean air:

I miss walking in the snow
I miss snowmen building high
I miss concretes slushy flow
I miss children stepping by:

I miss eyes of pretty girls
I miss old men sitting too
I miss seeing squirrels creep
I miss streetlights switching hue:

I miss walking to and there
I miss waiting crosswalks tick
I miss coming home all wear'd
I miss sleeping after six:

I miss waking up at nine
I miss dreading morning days
I miss my recurring life
I miss living life again.

Nauubos na ang katas ng mga bulaklak sa hardin,
Gayundin ang mga dahong tila nagsasayawan sa bawat pagsipol ng hangin.
Unti-unting ring nanamlay ang mga iwinawagayway sa bawat pulong ipinagbigkis.
At maging ang bahaghari'y waring sanggol na nahihiyang magpakita't piniling magtitiis.

Sa pagtikom ng bibig ng tinuturing na demokrasya
Ay nasaan nga ba ang tunay na pagkalinga?
Na sa tuwing gumagayak ang mga nakapilang ekstranghero
Ay magsusulputan ang mga buwayang masahol pa sa nakawala sa hawla.

Sinisipat ang mga bulsang walang laman,
Para bang mga santo silang naghihintay sa alay na hindi naman nila pinaghirapan.
May iilan pa ngang susukli ng lason buhat sa kanilang mga bibig.
Matindi pa sa hagupit ng kidlat, kung sila ay magmalupit.

Doon sa kasuluk-sulukan ng kurtina sa entablado'y
Nagsitikom ang mga buwelta ng mga may puting kapa.
Sila sana ang pinakamakapangyarihan
Na hindi kung anong elemento ang pinagmumulan.
Sila sana ang pinapalakpakan,
Ngunit ang suporta'y wala naman palagi sa laylayan.

Taas-noo sila para sa bandilang pinilay ng sistema.
Bayani kung ituring ngunit sila'y napapagod din.
Nakakaawa, pagkat sila'y pinamahayan na rin ng mga gagamba
At kung anu-ano pang mga insektong noo'y itinataboy naman sa kanila.

Tangay nila ang armas na posibleng lunas sa kamandag,
Sila na rin mismo ang dedepensa't aawat
Sa paparating na mga kalabang hindi naman nila nakikita.
Ano nga ba ang laban nila?
Ano nga ba ang tagumpay na maituturing
Sa labang tanong din ang katapusan?

Samu't saring lahi na may iisang kalaban
Ngunit ang tanong ko'y, may iisa rin bang patutunguhan?
May iisang sigaw ngunit ang tinig ay wasak sa kalawakan.
May iisang mithiin ngunit ito'y panandalian lamang.
Pagkat sa oras na ang giyera'y mawaksian na rin,
Ang medalya't parangal ay tila isasaboy pa rin sa hangin.