PEELS OF POETRY PART 1
A crowd of shirts in black and blue;
These eyes first laid their gape on you,
You neither sought the will to say hi
Nor collide with the mettle to smile at least.
Tracking paths of toil and sweat on boil;
Both have enthused the chronicle as you were that person,
The same person I saw in black and blue chemise,
Someone who went his way exemplarily around people,
While I am only but a shadow of those he has spoken well with.
I remember the sun…
The science of mud and dust…
The humid…
The mist…
The rain…
The metaphors of trucks
And it’s stout sound…
The deadly track…
The oak-coloured rivers…
The sloped mountains
And grounds that welcomed the heaven’s sloppy wet kiss…
I remember your face…
The shy smiles…
The awkward conversation…
The first significant photo…
The unnoticed departure…
The hello’s when you returned…
The comfortable smiles…
The moment when I became aware where you’re at…
A structure façade has played the hoax;
As you stood beside me for this habit,
A habit never called a vice
but a channel of an abhorrent strife.
Both opted to neither smile nor talk
Tis the power of silence…
Tis two people coyly encaged…
The routine of silence was never an option;
But an immensely embraced dreariness,
That day I saw those enigmatic eyes I ever adore
They met mine for a second,
And dropped downwards like melted ice-cream.
I remember the car…
The company…
The raucous group…
The room invasion…
The noise…
The blunt questions…
The answers…
The lace long sleeves…
The Cleopatra eyes and hair…
The mirror…
The photo…
The bed…
The event…
The night and lights…
The clicks…
The limelight…
And the first time I became MORE aware where you’re at…
In most times, my feet weren’t embellished
But defined then by mud licked sneakers,
With those pair, I trekked that day towards an unknown happenstance,
My mind never took a record,
Nevertheless, the subconscious twin did.
I remember you…
You and the thing you held that have bluntly spoken analogy…
Your warm presence that endowed a similar glow to a gloom-tucked-town…
I remember the manner…
How I bade you goodbye as you vanished into that fine sky…
It was vivid…
And I stared at you until the clouds engulfed you gracefully…
I haven’t seen you since that day you disappeared into that cerulean void
I didn’t look for you…
I didn’t feel sombre…
I didn’t miss you…
In one of my flights heading north,
You have found your way to reach out,
My core probed the events,
Welcomed thoughts trade at its best.
I remember your voice…
The first call…
The First conversation…
The first invitation…
The first cocktails…
The first time you opened the car’s door…
The first coffee at this celebrated shop…
Quite a count of many firsts,
And they filled a page or two in my journal…
Wet hair rested on my shoulders;
As I rushed to the ground floor before the ancient rooster crows,
We glided over the city lights,
And headed towards ignited sapphires.
I remember the multitude…
The mass in royal blue…
The numbers…
The gear…
The hammering chests…
The short gasps…
The throb and pulsate…
The panting...
The breakfast…
The moment when we were crossing the road…
That moment when you held my hands…
Trust me, I didn’t want to let go…
A lace of descent messages kept arriving;
There has not a day that north nose-dived,
To interlace the invisible filament that links it to the south,
Never-ending, ceaseless and incessant.
Fortuitous time has drawn an opportunity and pulled north to leave the arctic;
Basking under the southern sun pulled the strings together,
The strings intertwined,
Thoughts to dots,
Words to knots.
I remember how gold complements black in that little dress…
The golden shoes that walked me into your chambers…
The ease…
The peace…
The sheets…
Two bodies in bed with one embracing the other…
The strained muscles and spine taught you how to curl yourself into a question mark even when I am not the answer…
You grow up to be the one who wants to hold me
Those arms around my body bequeaths breather from all those that drained my sanity away…
You made me the woman;
You touched me and it’s always me you’re reaching for.
Your hands found me.
Lips and nape, hair and face, skin and bones
Your perception of me are always of beautiful similes.
I have discovered the ocean…
I left you sleeping when the sun rose,
And since then…
I looked for you…
I was sombre when you left…
And perhaps… I miss you…
Words That Weigh Heavy
August 23, 2013
Pre-Departure Area / Gate 134
