Micropoem: closed

closed

your words

tell me

you are

listening

but your

manner

suggests

to me

you have

already

decided what

you are

going to

hear

[For more of my Micropoems, click here]

Micropoem: good intentions

good intentions

i see you

on the

street corner

cold and confused

and want to

reach out

a hand

to lift you up

until

that moment

i realise

that to properly do so

i might need

to take

a step down

[For more of my shorter poems, click here]

Micropoem: idiots

idiots

some would

call them

fellow drivers

sharing the same road

but you

would offer them

no such generous

reprieve

[For more of my Micro little poems, click here]

Micropoem: racist

racist

it’s not

so much

that you

think

you’re better than

‘those people’

that causes my

blood to boil

as much as

it is that

you use

the words

‘those people’

[For more attempts at Micropoetry, click here]

Micropoem: Hypocoffeeracy

i sit

crushed

at my table…

 the inequality

and shameless poverty

i drive past

each and every day

rips open my chest

grabs my beating heart

and begins to squeeze…

completely overwhelming me

as i signal

to the waitress

to bring me another

Yirgacheffe pour-over 

[For more Micropoetry that i have been trying out this year, click here]

Micropoem: Triple threat

i woke up this morning to the Twitterer hashtag #IfIDieInCustody sparked by yet another police vs person of colour incident in Americaland. i have already blogged about it here, but the semi-poet in me kept screaming words and phrases and so eventually i sat down and came up with three different flavoured micropoems, for three different groups of people:

= = = = = = = 

white america

to those

of you

who have

made the

jump

from ‘those people’

to

‘our brothers and sisters’

there is

but one small

leap left to make

when your cry

becomes

“Stop killing US!”

maybe then

someone will

take notice…

= = = = = = = 

justice for Sandy

they found her

a life taken

by her our own hands

and as i

rush once more

to vent my

frustration

on another hashtag

the policeman’s

stammering justification

rings in my ears

= = = = = = = 

white american church

how dare you

remain silent

as she tries to

work out a melody

using only

the black keys

on your

grandma’s old piano?

rise up

and let your

privilege be heard

as your fingers

crash down upon

those ivory keys

and your integrated song

helps to

gently lower her body

into a sandy grave

= = = = = = = 

With huge thanks to Original Dante who got me inspired to start pouring my many words into just a few.

[For my 2015 Micropoetry journey so far, click here]

Micropoem: in competence

i believe

there is

a town

where you stay

called competence

it seems

you never

venture far

outside of

its boundaries

because any time

i need some help

you appear

to be

still

very much there

[To read more of my shorter poem vibes, click here]