Saturday, November 11, 2017

Words are small drops like raindrops on my head.
They wet my hair and run down my cheeks like tears,
except not mine.
They are not mine, but I absorb them and they make home in me;
a home not very lovely but livable.
I can not offer them a better accommodation.
I am a dumb believer in them words:
unwillingly, but I accept them fools!


 
Where is my Cluelessness?
It goes missing while Certainty escapes the bars
While Ignorance leaves no trace behind
While herds of proven truths trample ground
I dream a dream I will forget
A dream I won't remember
A dream I want to dream
A dream of self

Friday, November 10, 2017

i live in fear of the unsaid words
the words that i don't want to hear
out of fear that they were never said
i live in fear of the untold past
and in horror of inarticulate mumble
of my entire life