i sip your name
every sabah, dawning moment
i sip your name
etched in the rich woody
berry peaty bitter chocolatey
steaming swirls of brown and
beiged brewed complexities
i sip your name
jezvehed and poured into
maroon ornate demitassed cups
i sip your name, once more
it opens my soul
making me, oh, so happy
and oh so sad
i sip your name
yeah...
another attempt at
attempting and tempting
where tempering
rather than this moronic
play on words is the
only prescription
it was clear, quite clear
before the ellipses
this weren't to be
no how, no way
the illiadic start of
my very own oddyssey
the waterman flows
a sludgy river, oozing,
its way in slimy grace
pudding along to
some polluted sea
words splat on this page
a would be virtuoso expiring
on a shakespearean stage
some avante garde production
of a play no one likes
the sun... sets hopelessy
whilst dawning indifferntly
in someone else's tomorrow
where they will bake, globally warm,
this new existentialism
city of broad shoulders
ides of may
staring at a blank notebook page
this blank screen glowing back at me
processing it all with this fallow mind
this dormant marooned soul
waiting...
moist ideas evaporate in a mist
might have caught just a glimpse
might have jotted something down
that might have become a poem or three
maybe...
the world turned cold finally
the globally warm kind that won't last
while wars stay unfairly hot and afar
and social media plods confusingly along
this strange new normal...
nothing at all to preach or rant on
nothing - the difference it would make
nothing almost any of us could do
but for some fleeting reveries or dreams
nothing...
was told, sad news, that
the gratis ebony elixir
is nearing some kinda end
a transition of sorts to
bring your own at these
clanish convocations
'tis some cost cutting
budget labor saving
leadership guidance
and inspiriation to be...
more self-sufficient
the last sips of
freely and ever so
sweetly bitter poddish brew
ah...
like i never belonged
really, never? ever?
well, sometimes, maybe
whatta they call it...
pangs of angst
bangs of pathetic rhymes
adrift on dry land
seeking mirages and
some kinda...
ok, i'll settle for
an explanation
the collective you
define you, well enough,
convinced me...
can't seem to make
any headway convincing
myself
maybe...
it's just a stage
displaced...
displaced population
what refugees, exiles,
people, families, young
or old, driven from their homes
to wherever just not
where they were
for years or ages
you know, displaced
so clean, so pure,
so displaced like
almost misplaced like
car keys, sunglasses, like
it was a wee error,
almost innocent,
you know, misplaced
the poor displaced
juneteenth 2024
nngi and rafah and...
