Poety - Blog Posts

I Remember

I remember being a tree, I was beautiful and old.

I remember how my massive roots stretched out and rose from the ground.

I remember how I stood tall and proud as foxes burrowed under my roots, taking safety in the shelter I gave.

I remember being happy, I was happy with my sweet foxes.

I remember how warm I felt even as storms came, they looked to me for the safety that I provided.

I remember their sweet little faces and the faces of their children.

I do not remember the voices of the other trees who had been my friends but I remember my foxes with their silver coats and their playful ways.

I remember the hunter who came.

I remember how the sweet little foxes ran to me for safety.

I remember how they buried themselves in my roots for the safety I once held.

I remember how the hunter shot them.

I remember that I could not protect my foxes as I once had.

I remember how the hunter's eyes gleamed with greed and how for the first time I felt fear.

I remember how he dragged my foxes away from me, from the burrows they had made underneath my roots.

I remember that he came back with a man with an axe as same colour as the fox pelt he wore.

I remember how I could not fight back as he cut me down, I could not raise a root to harm him for I was just a tree.

Strained and wanting

I simmer below the surface,

a thousand pieces of light

stretched thin and glaring

piece together my skin,

thoughts rumbling through

troubled waters, fine lines

and wasted moments,

preoccupied with nothing

"In my culture, we know death intimately. In Arabic, the highest expression of love is the phrase "ya'aburnee" Translated "you bury me" . It means "I love you so much, I'd sooner die than bury you". It was used by mothers in our lineage who were so used to losing their young in war. In my culture, we cannot talk about love without speaking death's name"

-George Abraham, "Untitled," Published In Black Napkin Press

“You can’t feel my heart” I said

“I don’t need to” you replied

“Not even I can get through the wall” I said

“Then let’s sit here and wait” you replied

And so we sat against the wall, waiting

And slowly, the wall started to crumble

respirar fundo... entender que as coisas são o que são, além de difíceis, são complicadas de organizar. mas são o que são, e eu não sou nada...não sou capaz de mudá-las e lidar com isso é bem difícil, mas não é impossível. a verdade é que ser ser humano, é aprender a lidar com isso, com aquilo e com outros, outrem mentes, outros mentem...e a vida continua.