Poetry - Questions
Random thoughts on a Saturday evening might as well be a poem
Have you ever sat with your grief and talked? Did it talk back? Do you think dandelions are dead people, finally able to breathe? Does death cure everyone? There is one last dying light that the sun bursts with before swimming out - do you think it gets any easier for it to let go? Is joy theatre? Do you think passion is a lie? Did you mark your kids' height on the wall of their bedroom? I see you still close your eyes when kissed - do you believe in other miracles too? Does the ocean take your breath away, or can you finally breathe? How often do you think about Palestine - or do you never forget it? What comes to your mind when you are doing the dishes? Do you kneel at the altar of art? Do you own a piece of someone's love? Who do you think of when you smell your hands? When your ruins come back to haunt you, do you look them deep into their eyes and stay?
I Love a good question!!! I was that annoying kid in class who ached and stretch my hand as high as it could reach to answer every question, regularly told to sit down and give others a chance.
So here are MY answers 💜
Regularly, the dead are wiser than my living disappointments.
No, dandelions are seeds for our wishes and intentions.
Yes, death cures everyone momentarily then gives us an opportunity to heal again in life and preserve that legacy.
Yes the Suns last epiphany was to loose the significance of all it held.
Never, it is rapture.
Passion is the moon waxing and waining.
Yep! right there where we brushed their teeth. We painted over it when we renovated. They had not yet moved out.
Yes I believe in Infinite miracles.
At the ocean I can finally breathe, stretch out my ribs and release the sexton that sits between my nape and shoulders.
I will never forget that humanity failed Palestine. The lost mothers, children and innocent fathers emerge in my choices for peace.
Dishes, quiet method, order and repetition. Sometimes I hum a light melody.
I dance around the alter of art! This is probably why my creativity eludes me. Arha!!
I lend many pieces of other’s love and I string them like pearls on a thread of freedom.
This depends on who I have touched, but it’s mostly me.
Yes 🙌🏻 my ruins visit me, and I firmly and gently rock them until they fall asleep. Then I get on with my day.
That was worth every moment. Thanks Naz.
They were too good to assume they were rhetorical.
💜🙏🏼
Oh!! N., I haven't thought of closing one's eyes while kissing as a sort of miracle. I LOVE this!