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Showing posts from July, 2022

The Dandelion

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The toast burns to  obsidian crumbs as the putrid smell starts to soar interrupting the meditation of my words that I routinely slit my heart to pour. Does it matter if I bleed or not They concluded I am not a writer yet The story of a thousand days and night Not a cent, a dime, a quarter it gets. Yes, I have miserably disappointed the masses But my failure, though, is yet to come For I continue to blow the dandelion Until I choose to be done. A 2nd-grade nipper stands alone a body deformed by torrential pain  the ground beneath has cracked wide open as he flails to breathe and walk again how to feel warm in the arctic of grief when loved ones float far, far away the mother who packed his lunchboxes the father who gave him sobriquets Yes, life has struck him hard indeed But mind you, his defeat is yet to come For he continues to blow the dandelion Until he chooses to be done.  Sifting through  anguish, anger, and despair She stares at the  heap of hands-me-...

The Fish Head - 1

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                  You won't be pleased to hear this, but I am trying hard to forget you. A relationship is not some random data stored on a smartphone. When it starts taking space, you tap and delete, maybe empty the trash too. A relationship is more sticky, clingy, and slimy. And ours came tied by a milk-white cord, smeared in bright maroon blood and the deepest purple of the placenta.  I never told you this, but I have stopped eating chicken and goat meat. Over here, people eat all things alive—cigadas that emerge after 17 years of hibernation, sea urchins, and ostriches. The planet is burning; the news of a never-experienced-before cataclysm has now become commonplace. One step more, and we fall from the precipitous conditions we have manufactured for ourselves to our own end. I can see, feel, and hence I am trying to make reparations, seize the moment, and pivot to something better, more sensitive, more gentle, more humane. However, ...