March 29, 2014

Absent





Back then, 
There used to be some
That will work under the sun
Digging all their hands in the mud
Sweating, building and rising
Building for me and my generation

Faces were curious looking down
Standing behind the curtains
behind the windows

Some faces could only been seen,
Become square as they appear,
From their windows

There were some kids carrying books,
Laughing at other kids when passing.

Sweat and mud filled the air.
People like me would just follow
The song as the builders sing.

The songs, voices would continue
And the windows, become absent faces 
Starring at us.





This poem is written for the promp
Please join us.



ShadiatiQue ©2010-2014
 Follow shadiatique on Twitter

March 10, 2014

My own Swan


.

I saw you fly on the river like a swan
Trying to fly high above the water
Yet your wings touch the water
Water that makes your wings heavy
Beautiful they say, how swans fly calmly 

But someone like me would know
How you try to flee quickly 
Breathtaking they would say, 
I would know that's fear.

We all live in Glass houses
Nothing is hidden, not even our souls
Like Swans we react to danger 
And know how to flee
None of us can be safe

We can see each other 
Just some of us show more through the glass
& some of us hide and forget 
that nothing would be hidden in a glass house.

Be carefull my love
Hate can easily turn into fear.
But i wouldn't throw on you.



ShadiatiQue © 2010-2014

  Follow shadiatique on Twitter