Maybe I am a fool.
a fool like you,
believing in heaven
from inside the zoo.
The bars between us
holding me caged
saving you from a time
that will never be mine.
Unhinged and unbathed
I lie to you about my rotting skin
but you think of nothing,
so I remain untouched from within.
There was a time
I cared less
while you could not stop,
I was an immovable object
you were barely the wind.
Of all I could tell you
nothing seems to rhyme,
I hope I am attractive
if my words fail to entice.
The burnt smell of my skin
makes you cover your mouth
in disgust and in awe
as I inhale the filthiest of air
without the slightest of thoughts.
Maybe I am a fool,
A fool just like you.
The flowers are blooming
the answers are looming;
but I will never know
like the fool I am,
what it means
To be loved like I do.
Categories:
unbathed, appreciation,
Form: Free verse
What about the road accident you walked by?
Pretending as if nothing had happened
Too scared to save a life?
Can you hear the pained breath of crushed lungs?
Can you smell fresh blood on the pavement?
Or the scratch of finger nails, as hands lose their strength?
Take a look, take a look.
If you can see, do not be blind.
What about the the guy you saw in the metro
Pressing up against the helpess girl -
Clicking pictures without her consent?
A thousand eyes, all glazed?
Do you hear the rise in heartbeats -
One of anxiety, one of pleasure?
Do you smell the sweat of worry dripping?
Do you not sense anything wrong?
Take a look, take a look.
If you can see , do not be blind.
What about the homeless child you saw the other day?
He sat in the dust, tied down by hunger.
With a book, that he held upside down.
You just walked by.
Didn't you hear the flicker of pages, back and forth, in vain?
Didn't you smell unbathed skin and soiled clothes?
How could you not sense the hope he needed?
Take a look, take a look.
If you have eyes, do not be blind.
For even in my darkness, I see more light
Than those who purposely draw the curtains.
Categories:
unbathed, senses, society,
Form: I do not know?
When the caged bird sings
It tells of her story
The song will be sad
Like a dirge
A lamentation
For her plight
Of her bondage
When the caged bird sings
It tells of her longing
To be free
To spread her wings
And fly away
To freedom land
That has no walls
There she is free
To fly towards the sun
Free to embrace the wind
Caressing her wingtips
As she glides
In the open sky
Within the walls of her cage
She is shackled, oppressed
She cannot spread her wings
And freely fly
Untouched by the wind
Unbathed by the glowing sun
The caged bird withers
Till she slowly dies
From her misery
The never ending agony
Forgotten, unremembered
Without knowing
How it feels to be free
Categories:
unbathed, flying, freedom, sorrow,
Form: Free verse
Water, water, everywhere,
Turn on the faucet,
It's not there....
Broken main, they say...
Trailer park bosses,
They don't care,
They gave us each three gallons
Of water in a jug,
Hard to take a bath,
Unless you're the size
Of a baby bug...
So, drink beer or soda,
Unbathed, there is an odor,
I always said this trailer park stinks,
Life here is but a jinx...
Buy a pup-tent,
Camp near a mountain stream,
Starting to sound,
Like a wishful dream
Hydrogen hydroxide,
Giver of life,
There's none in this park,
Revolt is rife.
Categories:
unbathed, angst, health, nature, places,
Form: Burlesque