Thursday, April 21, 2016

A Poet's Audacity

Hey you,
are you mad?

... The audacity of him
to think he could,
in a matter of seconds,
turn life as it is
into words,
scribble it onto
the pad given to him
by life itself.

Sunday, April 03, 2016

Summer Morning

The cold blanket
of haze
I saw in your eyes
has cleared,
replaced by a bright spark,
summer they call it...

But I christen it lust;
I love it
for the bright lights
make you bold;
relentless, stubborn,
annoyingly bold.

Pic credit:

Saturday, April 02, 2016

The Ear Pull

Then she pulled my left ear,
The chiding,
it is, I know,​
for leaving you,
for hiding in their city.

The bloodletting
reminds me of home,
of belonging,
of what I’ve grown up to be​,
a slave to the month
—telephone bills and 96 pages.