This is only because I liked the imagery. I’m not quite pleased with how this turned out.😕
These words are for the stitches,
Where sun, meets sky;
Just far enough above the ground
Where kisses are air,
And laughter is a cloud
That diffuses the heat
Of uncomfortable summer days.
Thursday, July 23, 2015. 18:40 hrs.
There are sirens constantly blaring,
Near this place I learned to call home;
The night air is chilly, like it reeks–
Old winter-breath, touched with decaying frost-bite.
The fridge trudges on:
Foot-steps mechanical-sounding in the artificial silence I’ve created with the remote;
A lone dog howls,
Motor-cycles roar by,
But in all this symphonic malarkey,
My phone is awkwardly mum–
No fancy two-beat.
Merely the hanging coffin,
Of the long four count rest.
Sunday, May 3, 2015. 23:32 hrs.
Today, I started writing, and I noticed the Old Rhythm* had come back,
And where once I had expected great joy to escape
On seeing that my words no longer resembled sharp blades,
or blunt clubs,
All I felt was disappointment,
Because I knew what it really meant,
And I know what it means.
It means the walls have come tumbling down,
And the gilded bars from the old cage** I once spoke of,
Have been turned into pretty curlicues
On a beautifully decorated house;
And then I noticed that this house, housed
No façades, and a Human*** really did reside within it.
Still, it all made me frown,
For every beauty is fleeting,
And new structures eventually venture
So, until then new Old Rhythm,
I’ll watch you carefully,
With my upside-down frown.
Kadeen Nichelle Oksana Waldron
Friday, April 24, 2015. 13.25 hours.