We resort to violence each day. For example, thinking.
The hypocrisy of procedures. The construction of convenience stores.
From the beginning we are warned: ayaw pabadlong, please remain silent,
Walk the old lady across the street, bring your plate to the sink.
There is much, much more, and there is no stopping them. Like how halves
Of guavas turn brown, like how lies make a credible story.
There are so many tragedies the night guards when we are asleep
That we often miss morning’s Eden light on our cheeks.
We are all animals, as animal as street dogs and penguins can be.
Only we are intelligenter. But never above the cats because cats are brightest.
This is open for discussion, of course. Except for the carrot and stick.
Sometimes, we forgo our glasses in favor of likelihood.
It is not that ancient learning could only be as precious as lint;
Perhaps we have set foot on the wrong training ground.
But these are no mistakes: the tremble of our lips, the twitch of our eyes.
Something in there wants to speak, something in there wants to see.
The hypocrisy of procedures. The construction of convenience stores.
From the beginning we are warned: ayaw pabadlong, please remain silent,
Walk the old lady across the street, bring your plate to the sink.
There is much, much more, and there is no stopping them. Like how halves
Of guavas turn brown, like how lies make a credible story.
There are so many tragedies the night guards when we are asleep
That we often miss morning’s Eden light on our cheeks.
We are all animals, as animal as street dogs and penguins can be.
Only we are intelligenter. But never above the cats because cats are brightest.
This is open for discussion, of course. Except for the carrot and stick.
Sometimes, we forgo our glasses in favor of likelihood.
It is not that ancient learning could only be as precious as lint;
Perhaps we have set foot on the wrong training ground.
But these are no mistakes: the tremble of our lips, the twitch of our eyes.
Something in there wants to speak, something in there wants to see.
3 comments:
Profound. Reminds me of the late Miss Anna Escalante. And thank you sir for visiting and leaving a comment on my blog. It's more than just an honor.
Whoa. That's a flattering comparison. Thanks, anyway. Are you an acquaintance of hers? She was one of the dearest friends of my co-fellow in a workshop, and the way this co-fellow of mine recounted Anna's life and works, the sadness and regret became all the more magnified for having left this life so early. She will always be missed.
nice prose! i will now follow you.
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