Lits/Sastra, Poems/Puisi

The Unavoidable (So tell me)

Tell me it is not only me
That sometimes life is too much
That it only feels like a stack of must-do’s
A long list of unavoidable demands and orders

Is it only me?
That time seems passing in a way too fast
That it’s more like running with thousands of wild buffalos
That you’re forced to keep going fast, or left dying

Isn’t adulting a thing overrated?
That people push you too hard with their expectation and judgment
That it overwhelms you, as it kills you most of the time

Sometimes you wish
That you had that pause button
That you could press it
So you could take a break

Or, you had that power to go invisible
That you could just disappear
So you would just sit there watching
And free to do nothing

So tell me, or it is only me

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Lits/Sastra, Poems/Puisi

Bird in a cage

Mountain bluebird: another amateur watercolor work

So, what am I?
A bird you’d like to keep in a cage
Or a painting you’d love to gaze

You keep me hang at your wall
So you can see me anytime you want
As much as you please to flaunt

But a cage is a cage
I’ll just stay there hanging
And you only want to see me dancing

And a painting is a painting
A thing you’d like to stare
Not even close to anything you wear

(May 5th, 2017)

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Lits/Sastra, Poems/Puisi

Sensibility, Nonsense

Margo remembered as a child
She used to imagine
That she had this superpower
Her favorite was predict future
Or simply read people’s mind

As she grew up, she learnt that
She could really do that
No, she said she didn’t predict future
Nor, read people’s mind

She was an empath, the super sensitive
As well she was people’s observant
She knew when people are happy or sad
She got it when people like or don’t like things
She could tell if they’re telling lies

As time passed by
She got tired of all those
But she just knew
Anger, frustration, lunacy, obsession, hate
She would catch all those
She said, it made her tired

She was then a grownup
A wary and exhausted one
She wished she had never wished
To have that superpower
For what is knowing minds
If tortured all the time

She was then a grownup
She remembered that day
That she changed her mind
She wished to be
Someone who knew nothing
None of those things

Cause all this sensibility was nonsense

Prompt: Superpower

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Lits/Sastra, Poems/Puisi

Too Naïve

Like, a baby bear gets in the bees hive
to get some honey,
A cat is playing with
a moving tail of a python,
And, a dog is trying
to catch a lost porcupine

Sometimes we just don’t have idea
For thing we love or we love to do,
For what will come, and what may harm.

Like someone loves too much
Too naïve, to think the heart is made of stone.

 


September 17, 2016 – A response to daily post, here and now.

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