It’s National Poetry Month. And as much as I wish I can write a poem each day of the month, we all know that’s quite unattainable goal (if we stress quality not quantity). But I will publish every poem I have written or wrote in April regardless.
So will share this one:
Woke up and wore the masks of life.
the thick air felt heavy.
Like some kidney stones in lungs.
The first flimsy grey light.
Not sure if it was meant to replace darkness
or make its absence more sublime.
They declared an old beginning for
Something we wait to end.
The swamps of us hobbling aimlessly for a meaning.
All feelings molded in one shape.
Despair begets comfort that nothing will change.
Hope begets ache as things stay the same.
The hands of time walk us step
While we look at our wrists
Afraid to be late on our way to nowhere.
Let’s laugh at the joke.
The joke that we’re made of.
Let’s put on a face.
The face that gives no mirror.
Let the day pass by us.
As if we notice that it passed.
As if it counts.
As if we could tell its sunrise from its sundown.
As if it matters .as if it makes a difference. As if it makes sense.
tomorrow,we will all be wearing the masks of life.
Breathing kidney stones.
And laboring to find clear vision.
To find meaning to time.