I have Smelly Armpits and
Bursting to Go
but; I'm heading to the supermarket
the condiments aisle
I meet my neighbour
like conversing with a
pigeon
give me the full recipe
he says
he has arm wrestling
intelligence -
but how to get out of it
unsex me now
come, thick night
he talks about his hedges
I shoplift
the sugar puffs
School uniforms
are the last, tired gasp of a
dying patriarchy.
You see a DARK bra
under my blouse? Oh, God! Who
knew girls wore those!
School uniforms, with
long sleeves, aren't made for
pandemic washing.
A guy told me that
girls in school uniforms are
a core **** motif.
I told him his grasp
of **** tropes must rival
that of our school board.
School uniforms are
meant to UNsex otherwise
provocative girls.
p.s. I write short stories too =]
My body’s wrapped in the vastness of poetry.
Like a prisoner, locked in a dungeon of hope.
Crawling through a poetic infantry
With a feeling my heart could never let elope.
My eyes were closed in sleep
Until this feeling got revealed.
It opened and I felt poetry so deep,
Dangling at the hidden figures that I marveled.
I laid my hand on my skin - so thin;
Like a mirror, I got the poetic glance.
Honestly, nothing could be seen
Except those words that embraced my pen with dance.
Inside me is a thought that could unsex a nation and seal due diligence.
Inside my veins are disobedient racist sages
Willing to end segregations' races.
Inside me are lines that can travel longer distances
And show the world success's instances.
Inside me are lines that can cure wounded souls
And lead them to healing doors.
No time to give up; my pen is bleeding.
Enough of energy is still needed to get this revolution speeding.
It’s time to rise and get poetry on the globe,
Decoding our memories in divers of hope.
©? Prince Tardeh