The August Ode

Mine is a sect of the perpetually poor, fanatically introvert, only virtually talkative, socially uncomfortable, emotionally overcharged, poetically misunderstood unhappy souls. I’ll ideally never have big gifts to pamper you with or big plans to make you feel special (I can only plan fictionally, you see) but all year I have treasure-hunted the best and biggest of words to paint glamorously cheesy, pulchritudinously corny, hopelessly aww-ie and gloriously bittersweet pictures for you. While some will be old and some will be new, above all this August will be my ode to you.

May the carnival reign forever 💟


 

On the inky blue black sky shaped slate
I see scrawls made of stars, blinking
twinkling, demanding our attention;
do you too look up to the sky and see lost prayers?
Do you see the white clouds preserve in their shapes
the swirling dance of tribes crushed by colonialism?
Does the pink of the sunrise remind you of hijab
she wore on her last day of school
or does it remind of the shroud she wore the next day?
Do you feel the purple bruises swelling over her neck
trailing down her back, poisonous kisses,
painfully echoed in the shades of night?
Can you hear his heart numbing cries of fury,
as he holds the cadavers of his kids to his chest,
in the toe curling red of the morning sky?
When you see a star shine unusually bright,
are you reminded of a child who sits on his knees
at the edge of his bed, looking far and up
with his fingers locked and eyes tight shut
and he begs and begs for his father
to not enter his room drunk and dazed?

Do you hear the thunderous fissures,
glowing and bellowing as they tear the sky apart
for it can’t bear the weight of wasted wishes anymore?

 

Look up to the sky today and for once,
open your heart to it and
invite;
Invite its colours to enter your bones
Let yourself breathe with the acceptance of the reality of pain
that dwells and swells all around you.
And you’ll see, you’ll know
no one demands of you to have answers and solutions
most people struggle, just to hear a kind word
most people cry, just to be heard
You be their hope.

9 Comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s