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I’m always heartbroken
In memory of you and me. All
The time, happy. Sad.
They are the same.
To me, all tears flow downwards
Like rivulets to the ocean.
Happy crying becomes sad. So too
Heartbreak slips into
Times we had each other.
Someone else in this big blue world,
At least one.
Like my heartbeat, the water cycle
Passes along,
The rain seeps into the soil
It kills, it kisses. All
Blended as if it is one thing.
Translation.
Abot means reach. Kamay means hand.
Abot-kamay means within reach, something you’re aiming to have, or something you worked hard for is almost at your fingertips.
Abot-kamay
When you will be born on that fateful day,
Wrapped in sterile white blankets
And the heavy caress of a tired body,
I will remember dreaming of you today,
As I gaze into those brown eyes that awoke
Drowned wet with tears this morning for the dream
Of having you far off in the grey future and not being
Able to hold you, all bloodied and crying, in the small
Of my hands now, so wrinkled and far from worthy,
Smelling of oranges and lemons, feeling softness.
I was always fascinated by the story of Babel
Which could be said to be the story of mankind:
“To become Gods” or “To find God” or “To kill God”.
It is the story of ascent like that of mystics
But with the spirituality of warriors, kings, and conquerors.
I am a man, just a man, so I too think I know how men
Think. We want to climb the tower, holy or not
To achieve. Maybe we were uncomfortable in our baggy skins,
Disgusted by our flesh that is so easily bruised… and our egos.
As if in our old souls, we knew. That earth
And our allotted lotteries were not enough—
That there was something in us unfinished. Well, ironically,
It took someone stepping down, somewhat from that
Broken tower of ambition, to show us in all humility,
Clothed in our skin but not in our ancient weakness,
Not like Superman from the comic books but instead a poor criminal
Broken to show us that to be truly human is to truly be like God.
Jsolitaire Writing & Poetry 