He trudged towards me
in too big a shoe and tee
he stopped next to my chair
and looked at my tinted hair.
It was in a spur of the moment
my character needed adornment
And with his black beetle eyes
and tiny lips still showing signs
of the meal he had a while ago
he frowned like it’s embargo.
Then with hands on his hips
and a stern look over specs
“Stop playing and go for dinner!”
ordered my four-year-old brother.
Her gaze was as cavern black
so dark I could barely see
past those sockets.
It seemed hollow
cold,
echoing, unforgiving.
Her touch was as cubes of ice
sending bouts of shivers
down to my spine.
Transcending to me
vague,
chilly, and nothing.
Her smile was empty as a cup
that had lost all within
and its hope.
Her lips parted
forced,
small, and unfeeling.
Her heart was as ocean deep
going further than ever
to cherish her love.
Though none knew it,
hidden,
living, and pumping.
I opened my home to you —
Because you had left yours
And evil had made it worse
Reining unspeakable terror
On you, who’d done no error
I opened my home to you—
We are the same, you and I
arms isn’t our way of high
weakened by war this way
revive we shall one day.
With a passion for shades
and water colours for tools
he went looking for a school
to learn and become an artist
he knew no new technique
yet his views were unique
teachers told him bug off
you’re no good, get off
he strove still to no avail
all nightlong he scribbled
and daylong he dabbled
tried doing acrylic on canvas
and tested sketches on paper
shady outlines, weak curves
many hiccups and near give ups
years of toiling and redrawing
rework, redesign, recolour, repeat.
And people called Artists naturals.
Jump through a hoop
and walk a tightrope
pull off a jig on the side
laugh like you like it.
They toss you in the air
and jeer at your jest.
You hang on to a pole,
waltz through the vault,
it’s all about flexibility —
twisting to their humour.
You have your training,
in swinging and spinning
whether a club or your head,
you look like a buffoon,
part of the human zoo.
Life’s a circus, ain’t it?
