Time Machine
Look
I’m just like you,
full
and empty
and everything
and nothing
and all the spaces
tucked
10.
in between.
We grew up clutched between hands
of mothers,
fingers that boxed languages
and mastered the practice
of crafting lullabies
from steady shifting bodies,
cradling our ever-changing outlines
tightly against familiar bones
perhaps to decrease surface area,
our shadows melt
9.
into another
footsteps outgrow each year,
each month
the moon unveils its blooming image
across a galactic sky,
suspended luminescence,
and for a second we remember
where we came from,
milestones and timelines,
all 365 days of a cycle
we trespassed,
for a second
8.
we forget
every heartbreak,
white lies and promises
crumpled with ash,
every goodbye.
Or maybe it was a new
7.
beginning.
Look how beautiful the sun
emerges,
fire and clouds,
a painted symmetry
like a rising Phoenix,
like wings
6.
I never found
you.
left after she died,
only two years
before I was thrown into unfamiliar territory.
I’ve been searching for answers
in all the wrong places:
in empty mugs
and picture frames
and notebooks.
5,
I’ve been wondering
how time manipulates
and creases its knees
into an hourglass,
how we get swept away
4.
like dust,
how minutes and words
spell miscalculated eternities across tongues –
when we were young,
the skies danced for us
and we forever questioned
3.
Why?
2.
I’m beginning to understand
why we shatter into fragments
and incomplete thoughts,
when ribcages just aren’t enough
to sew hearts into flesh
sometimes
nights suffocate us
and tears become another means of communication,
why we lose pieces of ourselves
in order to make room for change,
enduring transformations.
Tonight,
I’ll fold the corners of my paper skin
1.
into an origami crane,
creating wings
that will one day rise to reclaim
a kaleidoscope sky,
and when time lifts me into the clouds,
I will finally fly.
Little hymn of broken leaves
The walnut tree in the yard was old.
My mom hired a lumberjack, who
Would later arrive with a quite bold
And slightly annoying attitude.
He started with the smaller branches,
So we could portion the wood later
On, when he would be done with the job.
I was crying, because I missed the
Old walnut tree. And its flying leaves
Encircled me, the last embrace, both
Comfortable and anonymous: meek.
What I did not know, that feeling,
The little hymn of broken leaves, which
They muttered in my ears was simply: change.
Beef stew
Old west rancher, Anderson Miller
Had roosters and cattle
Than anyone in his neighborhood
Once in days or weeks, who cares?
He gathers them together
Ministering like a preacher
Oh ye brethren, we are gathered here today,
to witness the slaughtering of one us.
I, as your keeper have been grieved by hunger
I have had sleepless nights
Your moos and coos have made me weary
The smell of your poop's, irritates me.
So therefore, a sacrifice is to be made.
Two nights ago, our brother Mani
From the rooster tribe, was sacrificed
Though he fought like a soldier
Before my silly smoothly knife
His struggle, shall not be forgotten
People gathered closely to watch this commotion.
For his staggering old voice, rocked with sensation.
From his hip tall wall, we watch for fun.
Out of great compassion and mercy
I have decided this day
To exclude the sore roosters
As they mourn, for their beloved brother “ Mani”
For his parts, gave me strength.
Moving onto the rodeo of contention
He takes a small stick
That he calls, “the silly cat”
Flings it high
Whichever of the member of the herds it falls upon
That brethren hays is sealed in fate
Oh! Oh! Mustafa
Just yesterday, I brushed your beards
You told me about your frustration
In getting Melinda to be your mate
You asked me for tips to win her heart
I'm sorry you'll never get to try them.
Oh! Oh! Mustafa
I fed you some plantain peels
We hugged for minutes
Telling each other how we feel
A rule is a rule
For many were called
You were chosen
Though this may hurt
I promise to be gentle
He slowly takes the billygoat away
Though I wanted to cry
The show was over, the crowd disintegrated
Now that old Anderson Miller
Rests six feet closer to his brothers
The whole town wept
For such a manifest, unlike no other
Will be missed for a long time.
Only a king, could have had such an attention
Free to air
United by our affection
Here now lies Anderson Miller’s park
A place for all, a place of fun
120 years ago
Anderson Miller had roosters and cattle
Than anyone in his neighborhood.
Far west, in Texas town.