Sadness

Sadness is not a puzzle
To be solved
By slotting each jagged piece
In just the right place
Grabbing all the edge bits
And leaving the vague till last

It is a broken thing
Waiting
For the making new
A mosaic of jagged pieces
painstakingly placed
By trial and error
Into a picture that
Breathes and stretches
as it gets made

Always resisting the urge
To rebuild what once was broken
These razor edges resist
The anesthesia
Of forgetting their birth


It is standing at the tomb of an old friend
And calling the unknown to rise.

Two

She hides her rage well
Down deep
It leaks into the water
Strains into the aquifers
Creeps into the buckets
To spill with heavy wetness
When her moments start to shake

She hides her rage well
Behind questions too big for asking
"Where?! Where!? Why!?"
Snapping in the wind of her mind
Like a tattered flag
Lost on a battle field
Where is the king now?
Why has he been gone so long?

Some things I found in my diary

Sometimes I forget
How to go places with my feet.
Or without them.
Or within them.

..

To be Samson
And push
On the pillars of injustice.

..