Curricula

I’m disquiet in the realisation of the futility of teaching the youth, younger each year, they’re imprinted with antiquated ideas of the past, growing evermore ancient and defunct.

All of it

Isn’t that all of it,

to reach up to the sun

with fists filled with golden sand,

the hot grains fleeing through the cracked clasp,

and for the sun’s shine to be

silvered by the passing

moods of the earth.

MicroPoems Ep.5

21.

In your eyes
I see, that those presented
as most strong, are those
most complicit in deceit.

***

22.

Who controls what we think?
Sometimes I tell myself
I do

***

23.

I’m trapped again,
stuck to your sweet voice,
your whispered honeydew words
leaving a brilliant sheen
in my bronze eyes.

***

24.

I await your lips
in water’s reprieve,
arrhythmic heart trembling
within my sleeve.

***

25.

I could have died,
left
alone
in your heart.

*****