My hollow wooden body pulled by strings,
I live on this carousel  “round, round, round”,
never still,
“Spins, spins, spins”,
out of tune,
Everything becomes a blur, lines of light circle within my sight, like a looming phantom,
dizzy, lose my footing, loose, free, I smile again,
Until im tangled once more,
“round, round, round”,
The vicious cycle, I'm lost in purgatory,
I lie to myself, but deep down, I know the truth: You don’t care enough to want to know what's really going on.
I convinced myself but I lose it down the line,
Now on my carousel as it hums to me,
“round, round, round”
yet again.

It allows you there, It warms the side of your cold face,
As you shrink in the rear-view mirror’s gaze,
Its glaring presence lingers, refusing to clear,
…Stay too long and it burns you,
The orange light wraps around your collar,
Blinding me with its brightness, hiding your  smile,
I don’t want to let go,  yet it always slips away,
But now, it's no longer bright, it leaves to the night,
It's hard to remember, but I know it was there…
Only left with a blink of you…

if i were to find my place in this world -
i’d rather it be on a mountain top,
or the bottom of the sea;
somewhere - where my silence is not a bother to me,
where the voices cannot travel to tell me i don’t belong -
or that i need a voice.
i’m not sure what i’ll do there, though.
but i think i know -
i’d bring a laptop with me;
a broken one.
and i would punch away at its keys with my fingers -  
my poems, all my poems…
again,
and again,
and again…
for years, for ages
until the rhythms girdle into a symphony;
something only i could sing,
something only my heart would know,
something familiar.

and then i would cast it out into the darkness -  
where it belongs.

i liked a girl from school, she was,
for me, a little too cool; she was -
on top of her game:  
something to aim for, she was -
hardly concerned if I had a last name.

i remember those roll calls…
my head leaning against the wall
just to sneak a momentary gaze,
as she'd stand up to answer the teacher's call.

“present, sir.." or "..ma’am”,
that’s all she’d say.
and I knew I’d make it through the day.
i believed someday,
with a voice so sweet,
she’d give me a call,
ask me to meet.

and though that day never came to pass
i remember looking through the broken glass -
of the bus window with a muddy tint.
i could still see her like fine print.

i remember her doe-brown eyes,
her fleshy lips -
the belt clutching her beckoning hips
i’d go to sleep,
drooling like a creep.  
in my slumber,
we’d meet in our secret keep.

she spoke in riddles, it would seem:  
but i could trace the general theme -
she’d throw me on the bed, and i’d fall -
right out of my wishful dream.

it’s absurd, i know -
i’m not a fool.
yet sometimes,
i wish i were the ‘cool kid’ in school.
and though her memories are all a blur,
i’ve yet to meet a girl like her.

it’s just not fair
feed her your leftover energy
then fuel her with your lifeless stare

and now we behold
this constructed spirit
purposely provided to fit your mould

a hollow container, she’s not alone
but she is conditioned so deeply
to lock up the unknown

who is she?
for now she is a deer

only very few can see
that she is combatting her fear

Mannerless child!
Shameless child!
Arrogant child!
You lack home training.
Your parents must be bad.

Please don't fault my parents
I was raised well.

I was raised to greet my elders and address them with respect.
Just because I walked pass you at the mall, doesn't mean my parents are to be blamed,
If my parents found out I will be scolded.

I was raised to say "please" whenever I seek for a favour and to say "thank you" as a sign of appreciation,
Just because I didn't utter any,
Doesn't mean my parents lack gratitude,
If my parents found out, they will never gift me.

I was raised to wear decent clothings and be moral in my actions and behaviours,
Just because I wore a skimpy outfit,
Dosent mean my parents bought them,
If my parents found out, they will burn them to ashes.

I was raised to be humble and have patience,
Just because you saw me cursing and fighting on the street,
Doesn't mean my parent encourages it,
If my parents found out I will be grounded.

I was raised to be generous, to love and care without expectations,
Just because I'm indifferent,
Doesn't mean my parents are heartless,
If they found out they will be disappointed.

I was raised to study and be successful in life,
Just because I'm a school drop out,
Doesn't mean my parent never paid my fees,
If they found out they will be angry.

I was raised to always go to church or the mosques,
To visit relatives and friends,
Just because you saw me at the beer palour
Smoking and wasting myself,
Doesn't mean my parents ordained it,
If they found out, the next day might be my funeral.

So please don't fault my parent.
I was raised well.
~boddobodes

---------------------------------

its one way glass
my eyes are one way glass
the window to my soul

i can see out
but you can’t see in

overflowing and flooding the room
following the glimpse of strength
overcome by the shadow of gloom

trying to understand
is like trying to build a sandcastle
with no sand

dipping in and out of sleep
screaming to be free
until the screams are weakened within me

inside of us
are tiny little buckets
filling up
and watches you grow up

then the slightest thing
makes it spill over
and every crevice of your being
is encompassed by pain

fleeing through the tear ducts
you are temporarily healed

can we live
at the bottom of the toothpaste tube
the part where no one can get you
and no one bothers to use you