Maybe Tomorrow (FunkyGemini) …a poem by Sena Quashie — 15 jan, ‘16 My eyes are the dew On the wet grass They see only the hand placed On the page of the rainWhere the thinning of poetry Is blurred By trying to reproduce the summer Under the advent of clouds It is a failed watercolor Of a sunshine on the beach But tomorrow maybe The light will …
Calm funerary monumentstramples the parched ground of this deserts. The recoiled shadowy boredomsubmerges this incautious verziere of dreams. Again the black flow of timedefeated the chariots of the shining ageand overturned in muddy fords. Imbued in this fabric of memoriesthe present of my dubious certainties,a worn edgeof worn-out yearswhere the past is painand the wait …
…a poem by Sena Quashie Tonight the moon dances with laziness; As well as beautyOn the cushions of many who dream. With its dull light like a distracted handIt caresses the outlines of ourselves as we fall asleep. On the satin back of the soft avalanches, Dying, she surrenders to the long swoon, And walks in our eyes, a white …
you’re at it again
My skin crawls
my face falls
my heart shrinks;
You’re at it again.
Your voice unheard
your tales unread
the laughs unshared;
You’re at it again.
Shame floods my being
darkness veils my world
doubts storm my heart;
You’re at it again.
I beg and haggle
coax and seduce;
How could you
be at it again?!
The eyes have bled,
the heart has cried,
the soul has echoed…
Enough.
I am allergic to your sorry.
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