Silence

 

Silence

A muted splash, a whisper of the water,

A glimpse of a snake on the river’s sleeping surface.

Then, silence.

GloPoWriMo Day 26 

The Truth

 

The Truth

They say I keep reinventing myself.

But I can’t make myself younger, 

and I put on weight easily.

To tell you the truth, 

I am often afraid.

I despise bullies.

I admire no one. My heroes are dead.

Except those two good men from the books. They will live forever.

Some men are rocks like that. They don’t even brag about it.

My happiest childhood memory is of being lost in the woods. 

On the other hand,

some women have managed to rule the world. Some of them even had nice names.

The ones in which men called them good, or sweet. 

Where they praised their softness or their hair. 

Their inner strength, like a river flowing inwards.

My heroes are ordinary people, surviving their day.

When I go, I’d like to have survived my day first.

I regret having smiled through my teeth,

saying it was fine.

No problem at all.

I was in love with a peppermint bush once.

It grew, independent of me.

And it smelled so good.

I have also loved sunshine, and summer.

When I come back, I would like to come as a peppermint bush.

Or a blueberry bush, I haven’t decided.

I have suffered from decision fatigue like that

all my life.

I am often sad, over nothing, like just now.

I love ice cream.

My guilty pleasure is dancing.

GloPoWriMo Day 25

So that I don’t write about the blue rabbit

 

So that I don’t write about the blue rabbit

I

"So I strike a pose."

So I begin.

So I go and sharpen my pencils.

So I play some soft jazz.

So I see him in my mind’s eye.

So I refocus.

So I strike a new pose.

So I go and do something else.

II

You were not there when I tried to describe him.

You were not there when I failed.

III

I do this for your own good, you know.

Why should you reach for something you can’t have?

Now go back to sleep.

IV

I hope that he is safe out there.

Somewhere where you and I can’t find him.

Inspired by Dušan Radović's Plavi zec (Blue Rabbit). The first line ("So I strike a pose") is taken from Gavrilo Stanojević's translation.

NaPoWriMo Day 24

Superpowers

 

Superpowers

If I was perfectly bendy,

if I could bend myself into a wheel,

I would shake off these bones of mine

and go and live like a snake.

If I had a suit of armour,

if I could wear it like a skin,

I would let the world reflect off me.

If I could be intangible,

if everything passed right through me,

I would not be afraid of dark places.

If I stopped being afraid of this poem,

I would make it go into dark rooms,

so that I don’t have to.

So that I can go to the desert,

so that I can bend myself into a wheel there

and watch the world 

upside-down.

GloPoWriMo Day 23

The Pencil

 

The Pencil

Why don't you just let me sleep?, 

said the pencil to the hand.

Why do I have to run for you?

Whenever I think I am done, 

you rip out the page

and make me start over.

You wake me up in the middle of the night.

You don’t let me rest.

You keep breaking my heart over and over

each time you leave a story unfinished,

a project abandoned,

and a character poorly written.

I’ve been doing this job for ever.

This job I never signed up for.

I don't remember how I got here

or why I have been sentenced to this work.

GloPoWriMo Day 22

Colours

 

Colours

Red 

The colour of my bride’s bouquet.

That was a long time ago, but

I still smile whenever I see you.

Yellow

The cat thought the lemon rind looked like a slice of the Sun.

Pity the taste was such a disappointment.

This can happen when you are guided by looks, thought the cat.

Blue 

Blue roses used to be white,

but they drank the dye.

So, now they are what they are. 

They signify secrecy and dreams,

unrequited love, mystery, and hope.

The handbook doesn’t mention sadness or tears, but

how could it be any different?

GloPoWriMo Day 22

How Refugees Arrive

 

How Refugees Arrive

They arrive on foot, on donkeys and by sea,

their clothes in disarray.

Some carry their bundles on their back,

others have bags in their arms.

Inside are all their worldly possessions now.

What’s left behind will have to be forgotten.

They are refugees now, which means they have no possessions,

other than their bundles and the clothes on their back.

Which is why they wear multiple shirts and sweaters.

This is a refugees’ uniform, no matter where they come from. 

They carry their babies in a firm embrace.

They trudge along.

The faster ones wait for their families to catch up.

Their family is everything now, in this new world.

They don’t know what this place is, or how they arrived here.

They woke up in their soft bed yesterday, and here they are now.

Or has there ever been a soft bed?

Maybe that was a dream they once had,

Maybe they have always been on the road.

Like a broken army,

they traipse listlessly, 

for they have no aim, no final destination.

There’s nobody waiting for them anywhere.

All windows are firmly shut, and the people turn their heads away.

Inspired by this photo

GloPoWriMo Day 20