The Poetry Marathon

I saw you last year on the news; you were the one clothed in blue and gray, you were the one who’s smile seemed faked, you were the one who had a sad eye on a happy face, you were the one who shed unseen tears, you were the one who wanted to be free, you were the one who lied and said you’re fine.

I saw you last year on the news.

I saw you last month at the show; you were the one with the aching heart no one could tell, when I approached you my name didn’t ring a bell, you were the one inwardly dying and outwardly laughing, you were the one saying hopeful thing to others — things that you really wanted someone to tell you.

I saw you last month at the show.

I saw you last week at the mall; you were the one with sunken eyes but glaring makeup on, you were the one carrying too many bags they became burdens, you were the one looking at the distorted mirror, you were the one moving with a crowd of fake friends.

I saw you last week at the mall.

I saw you yesterday night; you were the one crying at 3am, you were the one that screamed aloud from a nightmare, you were the one walking down the street in the dead of night… feeling no cold as your heart was all frozen up, you were the one wishing it was all over, you were the one going through your masks — trying to decide which to put on the next morning.

I saw you yesterday night.

I saw you at the bar six hours ago; you were the one holding a glass of champagne, you were the one with bloodshot eyes and a miserable smile, you were surrounded by cameras, you were the one not living life but existing.

I saw you at the bar six hours ago.

I walked by your house just now; you had a glass cup in your hand and an open wine bottle nearby, you rocked your head to an R&M beat, your eyes were shut but you could see things through your mind’s eye — things were falling apart around you but you didn’t care, you just shut your eyes and drowned beneath the waves of the song.

Then you opened your eyes and saw me.

If I was a god, you’d be an atheist,

Because to you I never did exist.

If I was the sun, you’d be the moon,

Only coming out when I’ve gone.

If I was a rainbow, you’d be colorblind,

Unable to see my true mind.

We’re not opposites as opposites tend to attract; instead I’m like a ghost, you’re unaware of my presence.

It’s like a one-sided mirror….instead of my reflection I can see you clearly, but you can’t see me from where you’re standing.

Whatever I do just can’t seem to catch your attention.

You’re just like a wishing star that comes once.

One can only wonder the crossing star’s destination as they make a wish-

an irrelevant wish the star can’t even hear.

I can liken you to the moon.

Distant and cold.

So far from earth but seems near. It’s not close at all…just an illusion.

I remember you.

You’re the dream I had but forgot about. You’re the dream I had no recollection of. Or perhaps you’re the dream I couldn’t wake up from, the dream I long forーthe dream I couldn’t call my own.

Would it be better never to recall the blurry memories or would it serve as a solace by remembering every small detail of the time spent together?

Whatever the case is, the sun kisses the moon goodbye at dawn.

Who knows? Perhaps some raindroplet might reflect the rainbow you seem blind to.

Who knows?

Perhaps you just might turn into a believer.

The sky darkens, thunder claps,

Eyes glares, words are sharp;

There is tension in the air.

Gasping for breath in the ocean seems comfortable,

Lying in a pool of blood in the highway seems secure,

Struggling dangling from the ceiling seems enjoyable,

Choking with pills on the bedroom floor seems good enough,

Foaming from a syringe in the bathtub seems likeable.

Hate decends and makes its way;

Splitting siblings,

Splitting friends,

Splitting couples,

Splitting families,

Splitting people.

The sky is gloomy while danger looms,

Triggers go off and fingers keep pointing;

There is tension in the air.

Dissapearing off the face of the earth seems advisable,

Running away from home seems approachable,

Revolting and striking back seems agreeable,

Poisoning them all seems good enough,

Talking things through seems hard; forgiving even harder,

But it is what is best.

23:55; all is silent — all is dark

as right before the deepest hour

of the night sky, the stars are sent

to bed and clouds take their places.

It shall rain tonight again.

A waft of freshly baked pie is carried by the cool evening breeze…

The autumn air turns a bit nippy as the sun sets,

The farm dog lets out a howl just before it starts to get darker.

Chickens clucks and gabbles about in their cages,

Two cows lower their heads and takes a casual munch of hay,

A young child and his elder brother run into the house with mud stains all over their overalls and childlike laughers fill the atmosphere,

A creaking unoccupied rocking chair set on the porch;

Once again nighttime at the countryside approaches.

Be careful, will you?

Things aren’t always as they seem. Why do you trust so easily? Are you naive? Do you know the most easily sold item? Wanna know? 

It’s your soul.

You.

Pacts, Covenants, Contracts — Call them whatever you want, the fact remains the same; it’s a trade. And the world doesn’t play fair… it’s your loss. You’re the one loosing out. 

Forget about having a long spoon, just don’t do it. Don’t dine with the devil. Why would you do so? What’s the use of using a long spoon when the meal’s poisoned? Isn’t it still entering your mouth?

You’re the most precious person to yourself.

Protect yourself for yourself. Stand properly will you? Stand properly and fight. Enough of those punny excuses. You only have yourself, no one else. 

Remember, it’s all a sham. 

This world we live in; it’s in shambles. 

You can only make it out alive by dying for what you believe in.

Chores and kids seems to
go together; 

Do the dishes,
Stop doodling silly wishes,
Get the fishes,
Clean the peaches,
You're not allowed alone on beaches;
Responsibly learn what life teaches.

But should chores and teens 
sing the same chorus?

Go do the laundry,
Hands off the pantry,
Stop being lazy, are you gentry?
You came late! You're passing your boundry!
Babysit your siblings - I appoint you sentry,
Study hard and be a blessing to your country.

I'm not trying to express feelings 
of dissatisfaction; Actually - I am.

Yet the main point still centers 
that chores are a major inconvience
at large in the society we live in.

Where is the road which one must take? I’ve been searching a while now for a signboard – oh! There is one; but, wait, what does it say?

This way is the right path carved out by someone ranked knowledgable. A decent sized job that consists of pulling all hours to gain someone else profit leaving little time for yourself irrespective of the certificates you’ve sweated for throughout your youthful years. This is legitimate.

The fonts are way too small and it makes me feel dizzy trying to focus on it. Great. Now I’m at an intersection with numerous signs.

All the future celebrities; over here!

It does look appealing and very flashy, but it’s doubtful. Too much people flock over there and the agent right by the sign seems shifty.

The short cut – let’s all live it easy.

Oh, I know that road. I’ve seen the end of it once; it leads to a cliff. A path of no return. Why cut corners anyway?

But then, thinking about it… these weren’t pliable roads before. Someone must have started those three paths that it leads to such lengths.

I turn and head off the road.

Me too. I think to myself. I’ll forge my own path. 

Something I’m comfortable treading on. 

This is when the going gets random,

Surprise attack! 

My word tank just ran empty,

there’s nowhere the words come from.

Should we retell the story of the ark?

Or sit at a quiet tea party?

I’d rather sugest silence to be a norm,

but I’m afraid that fact society lack;

It excels at bodyshaming, whispering ‘fatty’,

and a combination of red carpets and prom,

while it’s impossible to turn time back,

it’s time to quit acting so petty and be taciturn, for when we-

… listen

quietly

we’ll find

even in the silence

word are

spoken.

Never reply; I’m not sure.

To a question about your identity.

Now, cross it out; I’m not sure.

Add a few more statements of confidence; I have an identity.

You can brag a little too; I’m very unique.

It’s all falling in piece now, resounding like a beautiful harmony, because in a monotonous world like this – you’re singing cheerfully.

As you swirl and dance gracefully, you’re saying to world, “Hey! Look at me!”

“I’m sure I have an identity, I’m very unique.” And in a tuneless world like ours darling, you have your music.

So sing it out.

And sing louder.

You’re different.