The Regular Monday

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A day or a dream?

It's like any winter/spring Monday

Wake up to a gloomy sky and tasteless breakfast

How can one submerge in the bitter joy of a hasty coffee?

I don't remember where I spend the night

is it here or there?

how should it matter when none of the beds are mine

I can't say for certain whether I missed summer and a day at the beach

because shortly after, it is water everywhere

it cascades from the sky to land on the ground 


its little drops coil so tightly to spread like bedsheet

one that is meant to strip not cover

the million lies and promises 

of budget robbers and dwellers' carelessness

to lamp the impoverished and challenge the furnished


its little drops coil so tightly to spread like bedsheet

to cover the tears and wounding words behind
to washaway the blood and dirt of a forgotten sacrifice
to drown our cars like our drowning dreams
this engraves in mind an unforgotten Monday

I ride in the gestating floods
mistaken for my tears and imprisoned mind
"why did I come back?"
haven't I wasted enough time?
the water runs and won't stop for anyone to cross
like the train of life, or is it just the stream of my thoughts?

no wonder I can't get my point crossed!
that old woman that crosses and she trips
carried by the flow to the dump
how my brain is swamped with departing ideas 
unspoken lovers and unfertilized eggs

heavy....heavy it gets, despite the refreshing hit

I am cold, with a child to protect

eveybody's scared of the eerie swallowing mother 

and I am scared of you and what you can deprive me from

I lost my home that I never had

I grow a hefty home of fears and rusted screws on my chest

their throat-shaving taste overwhelms the drenched soil around

and I am both appalled and mesmerized


 its little drops coil so tightly to spread like bedsheet

is it punishment or immersion day?

suffocates our sins in or strains them out?

Glory be to the Lord of sweet justly vengeance

he brings Monday again to remind 

of the awaited sanction, or self-harming sins?

perhaps there is hope after the wash


 its little drops coil so tightly to spread like bedsheet

you left ruins within gorgeous womanly strenght

then I say:

what an appalling magnificent scene!


Comments

  1. JavierAugust 4, 2022 at 11:58 AM

    Zainab! How are you so creative! Excéllent!!

    ReplyDelete

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