There has to be another reason
for negligence, how these cigarette butts
settle next to a clump of grass,
how this city spears the sky.
But always, there is too much
that bothers us, and there is too little
elbow room. So we hurl in the air
the ills that brim in our hands.
Such as our least favorite wants,
such as our most favorite curses.
All the things that make us human.
And since we could not bear
the limits we have made for ourselves,
we linger in the dangers of proximity,
in the grip of common knowledge.
Then we will run out of things to say,
our intentions bottled and blotted
by pleas, by many missing words:
Sorry for. Do not. Strong.
It is because. Grapple. The face.
Forgive. But when. Give space.
In between silence and noise
lies the ballpark figure of caution,
and in here we must own a corner.
The struggle is not what
we have yet to see
but what we already feel.
*
Today is World Poetry Day, so I am sharing here my most recent work. This special day all began in the year 1999 in Paris during UNESCO’s 30th session. As stated in their website, “the main objective of this action is to support linguistic diversity through poetic expression and to offer endangered languages the opportunity to be heard within their communities. Moreover, this Day is meant to support poetry, return to the oral tradition of poetry recitals, promote teaching poetry, restore a dialogue between poetry and the other arts such as theatre, dance, music, painting and so on, support small publishers and create an attractive image of poetry in the media so that the art of poetry will no longer be considered an outdated form of art but one.
“UNESCO encourages the Member States to take an active part in celebrating the World Poetry Day, at both local and national level, with the active participation of National Commissions, NGOs and the public and private institutions concerned (schools, municipalities, poetic communities, museums, cultural associations, publishing houses, local authorities, etc.).”
for negligence, how these cigarette butts
settle next to a clump of grass,
how this city spears the sky.
But always, there is too much
that bothers us, and there is too little
elbow room. So we hurl in the air
the ills that brim in our hands.
Such as our least favorite wants,
such as our most favorite curses.
All the things that make us human.
And since we could not bear
the limits we have made for ourselves,
we linger in the dangers of proximity,
in the grip of common knowledge.
Then we will run out of things to say,
our intentions bottled and blotted
by pleas, by many missing words:
Sorry for. Do not. Strong.
It is because. Grapple. The face.
Forgive. But when. Give space.
In between silence and noise
lies the ballpark figure of caution,
and in here we must own a corner.
The struggle is not what
we have yet to see
but what we already feel.
*
Today is World Poetry Day, so I am sharing here my most recent work. This special day all began in the year 1999 in Paris during UNESCO’s 30th session. As stated in their website, “the main objective of this action is to support linguistic diversity through poetic expression and to offer endangered languages the opportunity to be heard within their communities. Moreover, this Day is meant to support poetry, return to the oral tradition of poetry recitals, promote teaching poetry, restore a dialogue between poetry and the other arts such as theatre, dance, music, painting and so on, support small publishers and create an attractive image of poetry in the media so that the art of poetry will no longer be considered an outdated form of art but one.
“UNESCO encourages the Member States to take an active part in celebrating the World Poetry Day, at both local and national level, with the active participation of National Commissions, NGOs and the public and private institutions concerned (schools, municipalities, poetic communities, museums, cultural associations, publishing houses, local authorities, etc.).”
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