Orange. A color of joy and prosperity for most A ten for being with a man I ought to be with should have, could’ve not but did
By Jui Hanabout a year ago in Poets
A call out for happy line-up causes, for many A cause, have any? some — hard envy A call out for reign Is it all for fame?
I write to write and nothing more Numbed nerves won’t let go Itching finger as it holds a point A point without words,
“ Isn’t it strange How people can change” — Strange Where do things go when they are gone? No. Not the lost things
A half-life or a certain number of years close to it it took that much to realize, To “Stand tall” can’t do anything much
There’s a space between us we are both scared to admit that it is filled with things we agree with and things we don’t.
A Seeker counts to ten. First Gong; Deep breath No countdown for those like us We can hear a gong banging We? Who’s we?
The feeling when a person shouts your name in public. It is not surprising or overwhelming An inch of worry but not really
I’m sitting by the window wondering how different it could be if our eyes could only see through tainted glass blood and fear —
Free verse — A poem about a gesture Pat from left and right hush every deep insight surrender not your very core
Standing alongside I see enclosing all spaces in between left, right, looking up, and down Sharp objects scattered everywhere
It’s sunset but I feel the day is just starting. like how I can’t sleep at night. What to do? What do we do? When what we feel and what’s happening does not match —
