"accessory" poems
Bent
Near to breaking
by her burden
of fruit, swollen with seed
In that thrashing by wind
Bearing down on the sun
in her labor—
of Need
to bear
the pain
to bring
her yield
to his hands—
her harvest
of warm juicy softness
___
Gone—
the upright
reach of untouchable spring
When stems, stern and smooth
wore a lace-beaded bodice of bloom
of coral chiffon
First leaves
a scarf
with a fringe of lime green
wrapping her gifted and lean
to the buzzing
She was lighter than dew
to the amateur insects
smeared with her
Her only accessory--
a robin
They had left
as evidence
they had ravaged
its song
___
Now broken and leaking
more damage endured
Ripe fruit in rough hands
He leans against limbs
by his weight sternly pressed
so suffused in the fragrance
of peach intoxicants
which he will have--
He is lost to his lust
He is forcing his need
into another year's beauty
asserting his claim over and over again
of that lost and ancient bounty
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 3:59 PM UTC
I really miss that thrill I used to feel when we started dating
I want to bring back the same moment exciting
Those days when we were not able keeping our hands off each other
So today when you are home, you will find our sleeping son
And me in a mood of beautiful seduction
Instead of regular powder I will be using formula flavored
That dress you gifted will be perfect not to cover my body tattoo
That would be the perfect accessory
I know you like my **** lips
But today I will apply some vanilla flavored gloss just to attract you towards it
My bronzed skin is itself **** you always said
You will be all hot and bothered by the perfume I wear
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 4:53 AM UTC
People cheat,
people lie
To get ahead
or
just to get by.
They do it out of deemed necessity
or
have made it a successful habit.
Some would feel bad,
but
some wouldn't lose sleep over it.
Some lie to protect...
Some lie to infect...
With little remorse
or
full blown guilt.
Either way
risking
all they've built.
A lie is an accessory
that most tend to abuse.
A convenient mask
for the ugly truth
that most would misuse.
Lies are...
The bane of relationships
Destroyer of trust...
Conveyed by irresponsible lips.
So have I ever lied?
Have I ever desecrated
honesty's pride?
Have I ever wielded it
to save others from harm?
Have I ever employed it
to boost my charm?
No I haven't,
now that's a lie...
Spouted that so easily,
I didn't even need to try...
Honestly,
YES I HAVE.
**I am no exception...
I am no saint,
I'm only human**...
with an ill sense of direction.
I have lied...
How about you?
Search deep inside...
You know you have too...
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
Day by day I fritter away
Observing decorum as best I may
Meet me as you meet — reserved somebody
Leave me as you leave — dull nobody
Dreary, weary, listless, spiritless
A resting spirit clamours to emerge
Unguided, wild, free and seeking
Boldly defying reserved somebody
But how, just how do I unleash this defiant spirit
For it is to cross all conceivable limits
Oh but a mask, of course a mask!
The perfect accessory for this task!
Careless of propriety
Boastful of daring
Acting against my will
Or in tandem with it?
This mask — just now I can't discern
Ponder I do with great concern
Does it shield my identity
Or render truth to it?
So now just what fun in masks
One may ponderously ask
Masks, bring to life fantasy
Fantasy, a realm of our reality
Reality, wherein lies multiplicity
Multiplicity, within each individuality
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 11:04 AM UTC
I am Comfortable
able to ease your fears with
a smile or a flip of my
appropriately curly hair.
I am forgiven traffic ticket
proper sentences and twinkly
eyes, able to quickly ease your alarm
I am Just a Warning
I am The Exception
elegant sentences
king's English
never tolerating the incorrect use of their
I am private college education
the accessory to your culture
the other to your subject
always complimentary,
but never the source of discussion
I am Beautiful
Accompanied by "What are you mixed with"
A reflection of appropriation for my own culture
Too White for Black,
Too Black for White
I am inner city in the suburbs
I am Lightskinned
the kind of Black that keeps you
Comfortable.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 5:04 PM UTC
I am sorry for ruining all vaginas for you
I hope you can recover eventually
She said
I hate to burst your **** bubble
But I’ve slid some lies between your thighs
When howling at your moon wasn’t so much praise
As it was longing for a change of ***** scenery
People change?
How I feel right now
is like when one time I was sick
And my parents recorded a show I watched
so I could watch it later
And at the end of the show
there was a number for a contest to go to space camp
I called that number
It was disconnected
I always find out the important stuff
A little late
I cried that day
I just wanted to go to space camp
And I just wanted someone to love me like a black hole
A warm black hole to put all my love into
**** me in and fix me like there’s no turning back
I mean in the darkness of space
They all look the same
All yank at you turbulent and fiery head rush passion
I mean we all love the same
So I am sorry I overshot your Venus
To crash land in Uranus
A semi-purposeful curious passion
You coulda yelled ****
We felt like ****
When we walked away
Parts of me have always been missing
And I tried to fill the gaps with you
Problem is when you might be gay and are fighting it
Your closet is a ******
Not your fault your beard looked funny on my ****
You can’t wear a person like an accessory
I can’t slap her like masculinity till I feel straight again
Some things aren’t right
I’m not right
And you are so messed up now
Because you have this superpower to turn men gay
You can’t turn men gay
You can only remind them of the pain that lies
In lying to themselves when they know
None of this feels right
None of it will
Dear former lover
Former black hole body
Former holder of my confusion
And filler of my empty spots
I ****** up by ******* you
I ****** up
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 3:55 AM UTC
A Response to Thought Catalog
Number One.
"She won't touch your stuff
because she doesn't want to do anything"
Which also includes leaving her bed
before six pm
meeting your friends
or seeing the movie you've been begging her to see
since the trailer came out last year
Number Two
"She'll probably forget you borrowed
money from her"
or to pay the bills,
or your birthday
or getting groceries
Number Three
"She's a cheap date"
more than likely because
she doesn't care where you go
but she wants to be back in her bed
the minuet she gets into your car
because now her insecurities
are buzzing in her ears
and clawing at her throat
Number Four
"She probably doesn't want to
meet your family"
sitting in her room terrified that
she's not good enough
that she will never be good enough
and they won't accept her
Number Five
"She will probably get drunk
and you can have *** with her"
Number Six
"You can get free drugs!"
she knows about her missing
pain pills and antidepressants
but she won't say a thing because
you love her, right?
it's selfish of her to think she needs those
she has you. right?
Number Seven
"She has poor memory
and a short attention span"
Unaware of whether its Monday or Thursday
or if she ate this week
Number Eight
"She won't talk that much"
instead she can soak up your words
and turn them against herself
until they infect her insides with acidic words
ugly/fat/ugly/stupid/ugly/useless/ugly/worthless
Number Nine
"She'll pamper you because
she's sensitive"
Here's the newest game you wanted
I hope it makes up for me not being good enough
Here's some money, go out with friends
I don't want to bring you down
Number Ten
"It'll make you look better"
She's a charity case
a lost cause
who lost herself
but she's so lucky she found you
She's like an accessory
that you drag around
she'll make you look perfect
won't she?
It's supposed to be simple.
Dating the dead girl walking.
besides the fact she'll
bawl her eyes out every time
you grab your keys
or the fact you have to deal with
the burden of having to hide
your mother's steak knives
so you can sleep in peace
without worrying whether
you will find her lifeless body
on your bathroom floor
Number ten
You can romanticize
the pain she goes through everyday
while her hourglass hearts
last grain of sand falls to the bottom
but you will NEVER
be able
to say you were the hero.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
Teeth
They are strange little things
Always biting
Leaving their crescent, jagged mark
Everywhere
Tough bone, made to last
They say a smile on your face
Is the most beautiful accessory
A person can have
But no perfect smiles are without
Teeth
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
My sassy gay friend
Is not an accessory
When you go rooting through the closet and find him
Lacing straight ties into chains
Do not think that he will complete your outfit
Just because a rainbow holds the hues that you were looking for
Haven’t you seen that bruises also bloom in shades of purple and blue
Fading into green and yellow
With red far too often escaping veins that are supposed to hold it in
Haven’t you seen what marks us
And brings our identity to the surface of our skin
When closet doors are slammed too often against our hands
My sassy gay friend
Is not a decoration
You do not get to wear him at your hip
To flaunt your acceptance
And claim symbiosis
As if he needs you to navigate the streets of heteronormativity
Cutting short his words when communication is the best thing we have
And when speaking fails us we resort to spending an afternoon
Sending smoke signals into the sky
Waiting for security in the focus that it takes just to
Breathe
My sassy gay friend
Is not a collectible
You do not get to gather us up into a complete set
To line us neatly in an array
Of rarities and charities
And alternative identities
Until you feel sufficiently well rounded
In your attempted diversity
My sassy gay friend
Is not an icon
A token character
Or comic relief
My sassy gay friend
Is not meant to be romanticized
Idolized
Or fetishized
He is human
I am human
You are human
And if we see each other as sparkles and rhinestones
We're all going to lose all the value
That can't be found on price tags
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
Anybody that is anybody knows the most fabulous and trendy accessory are socks.
Crew, No-Show, Knee high.
The ever versatile socks are the most righteous thing.
The Ancient Greeks may have had some dark ages, but they were the first people that we know of that thought,
Hey shoes are cool, but what if we made them more flexible and soft.
Thus the mighty sock was born.
Now there are some of you who may think completely different about socks.
Maybe they are boring, or annoying.
You are feeling the Albert Einstein side of socks. (He didn’t wear socks because he didn’t see the point, tragic huh?)
Well friends, though you may be genius you are completely idiotic.
Socks are little hugs wrapped around your feet. All day. They are like butterfly kisses that mae you smile every time you look down. What is better than that?
The answer is nothing.
Queen Freaking Elizabeth loved socks and went to the inventor of the knitting machine (which was originally created to make socks) to have custom socks made.
Not only are socks just incredibly wonderful and stylish, they were invented to help save the world… from sticky feet.
Socks help prevent your human sweat drops from seeping into your shoes, making a perfect nesting place for the teenage mutant ninja turtles. Disgusing
In conclusion, nothing can or ever will be more awe founding or perfect than socks
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
all things are useful, bulbs
bring light , denote ideas,
good intentions, spent,
collected.
cotton hankies, frayed hold the books,
yet those with nylon, stretch the skin
resulting in red and soreness.
shy away from dangerous commodities,
use the best, those tradtional artefacts
which are gentle on your soul, bring light.
wipe your nose clean.
sbm.
today we have added notes for your interest.
A HANDKERCHIEF (also called handkercher or hanky) is a form of a kerchief, typically a hemmed square of thin fabric that can be carried in the pocket or purse, and which is intended for personal hygiene purposes such as wiping one’s hands or face, or blowing one’s nose. A handkerchief is also sometimes used as a purely decorative accessory in a suit pocket. When used as an accessory to a suit, a handkerchief is known as a POCKET SQUARE. There are a wide variety of ways to fold a pocket square, ranging from the austere to the flamboyant.
The material of a handkerchief can be symbolic of the social-economic class of the user, not only because some materials are more expensive, but because some materials are more absorbent and practical for those who use a handkerchief for more than style. Handkerchiefs can be made of cotton, cotton-synthetic blend, synthetic fabric, silk, or linen.
Historically, white handkerchiefs have been used in place of a white flag to indicate surrender or a flag of truce; in addition to waving away sailors from port. King Richard II of England, who reigned from 1377 to 1399, is widely believed to have invented the cloth handkerchief, as surviving documents written by his courtiers describe his use of square pieces of cloth to wipe his nose.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
The officer said it was illegal but I've never been punished thusfar.
I knew it was wrong, but desire consumed me.
I grabbed the man and dragged him into my van.
He screamed and I laughed.
Brutal company.
It was going to hurt, of that I was certain.
His lack of consent did not stop me. I was on a mission, and James Bond always thrives.
I got in and drove as fast and as far as I could.
Speed bumps bring my daughter joy.
She giggles, I smile, he writhes in pain. My smile grows.
A pain bubbles in my clavicle but I digress.
But, I don't digress because it HURT.
I locked the angels in my closet for safe keeping. My mother is proud.
Blood is my favorite accessory. Hashtag period.
My friend always said I was cunning but I never believed her father was a good man.
After all, a good man would never commit such acts.
I threw the empty toilet paper roll at his grave then shouted at his wife's cat.
Meow. Meow, meow. Meow.
It sings the song of the hummingbird so I put it in a collar and walk it to the pound.
The pound sings the song of death, my song.
My student tool box is full of unfortunate goodies, and yes, my English teacher approves.
But I would rather she not. This is my journey, not one I shall share.
I aggressively slap the keys of life, hoping yogurt will seep from the cracks of destiny.
It never does, and I starve.
My granola is friendless.
Life is bitter, like the skin of a plum.
Fierce as a seahorse. But again, I digress.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 10:20 AM UTC
She didn't know why
but within the simple act
of a man taking off his belt
lay all the terrors in the universe
But one day
this woman
she refused to be afraid for even
one more minute
She refused to give sway
to fear anymore
She refused to be a doormat
for one more bad egg
in the locker room
She refused
to be
a fashion
accessory
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC
You're not a necessity,
You’re an accessory.
Stop trying to own me, talk at, and stand next to me.
Stop playing the role of the leader- you’re less than me.
I am the boss here you have nothing to offer- see?
I am stronger, smarter, brighter, bolder-
and all you have to say is what?
“If I can’t have her I’ll hurt her.”
You think because you’re man and I’m women I’m yours,
but when it comes to offers I haven’t see anything worse.
You call at me,
Stare at me,
Swear at me,
Slimy and gross like a leach.
You taunt me and smirk at me as if I’m in your reach.
So I’ve talked to you once,
We’ve made eye contact- your point?
You’re a cog in a machine line,
a small piece,
an ordinary joint.
You’re unoriginal with your words,
even less with your actions.
I’m beautiful and talented,
So when it comes to you there’s no attraction.
You have nothing to offer me,
let me be-stop accosting me.
You’re taking up my time and it’s costing me.
Because unlike you I’m not worthless,
I’ve got ambition and drive.
I’ve got brains-not just an ***
You’re not the reason I’m alive.
You’re nothing,
You’re worthless.
And if I wanted you, you’d know.
I’ve been trying to tell you repeatedly just where you can go.
Your offers?
Not catchy,
not tempting,
I don’t want anything less.
So sad to know when it comes to relationships-
this is as close as you ever get.
You’re ****
You’re trash.
You confuse me when you talk.
Since when does a women sleep with someone when they gawk, or when they stalk?
You’re a coward,
You’re a loser,
Your creation was a glitch.
And though yes, I am rejecting you,
No, boy-you are the little *****
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 3:42 PM UTC
I am not your accessory
a statement piece
to your spineless connections
The thousandth image-oriented festivity
That you thoughtlessly threw
Due to the boredom of your own reflection
I am not a string of pearly witty conversation that you casually bring up when you aren't capable of employing stimulation
I am not a magenta lipstick you reach to cover up your mindnumbing gossip about the neighbors indecencies
You try to duplicate me and slip your right, then your left foot into vintage leather Jimmy Choos
Oh but your archless perception of life
Doesn't quite fit your soul next to mine
Empathy was never your strong suit
Oh but a tailored cold charcoaled judgement suit--that fits just.right.
Still you try to wear me, despite discrepancies
And oh how you hate the way I mock your silhouette
I clash with your champagne clings
You try to bash me against silverware but I remain mute
"Oh but if I can't make her an accessory, I shall make her an appendage!"
Oh how Christian and courteous of you
In the same way you asked your bridesmaid to step off the alter when she came out to you on that heavenly day
You ask me to be your brothers appendage
Oppressive and aloof
Asking was always a waste of time for you
You expect.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 1:09 AM UTC
i like to look at things that shine
fireworks projected into the sky
and like a shooting star they fall
some wish
i watch
as it splits into an array of colours
a few seconds of beauty
quickly enveloped by the night sky
floating lanterns, so ominous
so pretty and mysterious
dots across the dark horizon
the endless darkness tainted
by blurs of light from a distace
but up close they truly are
an enchanting spectacle
camp fires are surreal
what stories do they hold
it rages and fights
it consumes, magnificent
so powerful and yet
so wise
candles bring out memories
if i stare too long
its rhythmic flame will devour me
the tiny light brings out the biggest shadows
like a trance it pulls me in
blow it out, then i'll be free
neon trapped within traffic lights
the red has immeasurable power
amber hues bring on despair
green commands attention
but in the dead of the night
when not a single soul roams by
driving past the glowing lines
of light upon light
i enter a realm of nostalgia
i see the flash of lightning
it is ferocious
commands respect
but when i watch it
from behind a window pane
with raindrops streaking down
the thunder muted, the dark clouds
they emit the most beautiful violet light
it comes and goes in simply seconds
and how could i forget the stars
always there
but only alive
in the depths of the night
scattered across the sky
they glow like an accessory
desired but unreachable
i stretch my hand out high
a little more and i can touch them.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 6:56 AM UTC
Anticipation rising
as our holiday nears
My gosh, Eid ul Fitr
is already here
In the early morning
on your way to groom and a bath
I know it's so because
I too clean up to be on the same path
Squeaky clean
the skin on our faces shine
A gigantic goal accomplished
oh we're feeling really fine
Who needs Christmas when we've got Eid
a festivity that includes all Muslims even those in need
Decorative clothes we wear while extending our hearts to each other and offering a good cheer
it isn't hard to tell our love of our religion is near
From the same community we come, it's known we throw a fun-filled Eid party
"Because this is my holiday" and our festive spirits aught to be really hearty
Allah hu Akbar, the accessory and ornament of our special day
along with a duo and nearly two billion others, you'll hear me loudly say
When little girls, Atefeh's and my enthusiasm about Eid blossoming as we sang an Eid song perhaps trying to compete
"From sunrise to sunset, no food did we eat. All praises are due to Allah, our fast is now complete."
Mehdi whose thoughts of his beloved in the distance too busy with his boys climbing trees and ducking low
a long time friend of two families to witness a wedding and a start of an Eid tradition that brings the community together, what a show
So here's to Mehdi and Atefeh, Eid enthusiasts among a few
showing you gratitude and appreciation, for we've heard it said "It takes one to know two."
by: Najwa Kareem
Jun 4, 2019
Jun 4, 2019 at 7:05 AM UTC
I'm wearing a straight jacket all over
As my fashion statement
My body got the memo early
That the world wouldn't be able to handle my movement
So it doesn't move...
Just so that the world doesn't explode from my
Awesomeness
Eyes are glued to me
Like gum to my wheelchair
Because I'm fiercer than Beyoncé
Some have the audacity to try to berate me
Thinking that I'm lesser because
I don't succumb to the filth of the floor
I won't descend to that level
My feet weren't made to stand on this world
God knew that only the best would do
This world isn't ready for my Heavenly struts
Rihanna ain't got nothing on me
I refuse to accept my situation as a prison sentence
My heavy skin isn't my prison warden
It's my accessory for my outfit
Even though I'm rolling here
I'll not only be walking,
I'll be soaring in Heaven
So you don't have to give me your discount pity
I take cash
You may call me a handicap
But I call myself a Princess
Who can only walk on golden roads.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
The doorknob to the closet
full of my skeletons is made of
funny-bone
But there are days
when honesty tugs a little too roughly and
I realize this isn't all that funny now
Is it?
As a writer
You learn presentation is key
In the bend of language
I create this man
I want you to believe me to be
And so I tell you these stories
like they are jokes
Like they are no big deal
Like the first time I got drunk
was with my friend's mom
who was a known child molester
She tried to order us ****
But couldn't work the cable
Or my friends and I used to travel our city
via the water drainage system
Near the mall
We got lost once
and while standing
in ankle high water
we saw at least 20 homeless people
sleeping on pallets
We called that place *** City
We had to get directions back out
There's a possibilty I have been an accessory to ******
Around the time in my life when I learned
How not to dwell
My body was a wishbone
My father meant to break
But every beating
left me the better half
I find so much of it funny
My brother's most recent suicide attempt
My mother's
My father's Alzheimer's
He once chased after our mailman
naked
Asking him about some letter
from some woman
I have never met before
I find laughter
and beauty
in the bend of language
When this chest becomes a broken radiator
and my heart grows cold
The metaphor mutates Campfire
Come here
I am lonely
and I have a story to tell you
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 5:24 AM UTC
i know i told everyone i hated you, but oh, baby
alcohol will not fill the hole i left.
you can pour as much ***** down your throat as you want but if it tasted like my name after two shots, it will still taste like my name after twelve.
oh, baby
alcohol, contrary to popular belief, is not a truth serum.
it will not cure your compulsive lying, it will not provide you with a newfound empathy for others.
liquor is not a cure, it does not make you better, it makes you worse.
oh, baby
alcohol does not make you forget.
four days after i found out about you and her and all the lies, you sent me 80 drunk texts begging me to return to your abusive relationship. do not tell me that alcohol makes you forget.
i've never drunk texted you but it only takes my drunk self 15 minutes at a party to find a boy to fill your role for the night. seven shots later and i'm holding this boys hand and he's holding me up - i did not forget that he was not you, i merely remembered that i was alone.
alcohol does not make you forget.
oh, baby
alcohol will not help your grades.
i heard that your new study partner is named smirnoff, i know textbooks don't have blonde hair and soft lips but i promise they would make a better replacement than that bottle.
oh, baby
alcohol will not make you nicer.
drunk texting me that this is all my fault for being so jealous is not endearing. calling her a ***** is not endearing. falling over is not endearing.
baby, alcohol will not make people like you more.
oh, baby
i know that you are carrying some baggage but alcohol will not make them lighter, alcohol will not make them more colorful, alcohol will not make them more valuable.
it will not help, it is not appealing, ***** breath is not a cool accessory.
i am never coming back, but the boy i fell in love with is inside of you somewhere and he does not deserve to be treated like this.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
upon waking, i could feel glass in my lungs
small, sharp shards prickling the breaths from my chest and
stealing them away from me—
like some stolen innocence i remember once was mine;
but that was years ago, now
i've been ruined for a long time
i don't sleep very well, and i don't-
don't really wake up very well, either
particularly as we accelerate towards winter
and the only thing i can associate the cold and the dark with
is childhood and threat,
and my school teachers called it Seasonal Depression
but my therapist knows i'm always depressed
Depression is a long-time cuddle buddy;
she's kept me company through trauma.
my therapist tells me that
the cold and dark, they're incentive to flashbacks
too many nights, only single digits in age, forced
to sit in the frost-bitten shadows of an alcoholic's living room
with the AM hours throwing bloodied ***
and violence, through a TV screen
and i still remember the crippling ache of empathy,
watching that little robot boy's family abandon him:
lost in the woods, found only to be beaten.
i breathed through the glass in my lungs,
and never could quite let go of the memory,
nor the popping eyes and crashing cars
or the bleeding walls and possessed children;
wondered, briefly, if maybe some strength could one day possess me
and make my father see i was worth more
than a black-blue shadow in his home, and an accessory in his favourite bars
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 6:07 AM UTC
a person on the metro, six stops from their destination
leafing through a brochure titled How
To Get Rich Quick -
sighing in disgust,
"I was never allowed to go on the metro
when I was young," boasts the woman
sitting beside them, an accessory of
The Scene. a prop
(voice is loud and nasally, and the person - five stops - considers moving)
quick smile, polite:
which means, go away. or, at the very least, don't talk quite
so loud
okay? okay?
a softcover Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary is under the seat, discarded,
Sharpie skidding through it (four stops) at every jolt
of the train.
this is normal, all trains are jerky sometimes, and the loud woman
expresses her concerns.
an old man, older than both people,
older than anything really - coughs.
wet coughs.
the person frowns, but quietly, so
the woman and man won't notice.
(they are well-practiced in the art of subtlety)
three stops. the woman leaves
but the smell lingers
and the dictionary, having slid back
one or two rows for effect
a flock of tourists board. kids in the seats
parents hanging tiredly to safety holds
(be still be quiet keep your hands to yourself, mandy
a little boy of six clinging to the person's jacket with
sticky warm fingers)
two stops, and the boy asks why they look so sad.
what they're reading.
they have perfected the art of silence
but little boys don't understand silence.
the mother hovers in the background
sneaking ***** looks at the person,
wax smudged smile going crooked at the edges
one stop,
the boy asks where they got their hair
(my head;
he is unimpressed)
he is kicking the lonely dictionary
providing it with company,
or maybe unaware.
they leave, and the mother hisses something at them as they pass -
clutches the boy's arm.
the dictionary has been stuck on the word spectral for three days,
and the train hums to life.
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 9:28 AM UTC
These things we wear,
sometimes feel like contraptions.
Restricting freedom but
providing protection.
So many ways and styles,
the possibilities are endless.
Through heat and cold
always an accessory,
even if they are not on our feet.
They go everywhere with us,
seeing even what we do not.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:28 AM UTC