Friday, October 17, 2008

Independence

Independence is a little
overrated and freedom,
a cost that divides lovers,
countries and family.
I am a product of
independence, the
evolving resultant
of an ongoing process.
Forced to reach for
freedom, for despite
its costs. Don't get me
wrong, practically
speaking independence
is good; vistas of choice
open up. Yet choice is
redundant in questions
of wanting just one.
Independence is a little
overrated. Countries,
family and lovers
can testify to that.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

The Inner Monologue

It is usually construed
as a sign of madness; the
loud talking to oneself.
And yet it is merely
instrospection or a 
dignified inner monologue
if one whispers to 
oneself. Ironic that
madness, in this case,
is cathartic and sanity
the killing of the self.

Monday, October 06, 2008

The Tower of Babel

Steeped in the scrawled
cliches of scripture, I have
doodled myself a tower
rising out of shrubbery.
And soft vanilla clouds
lackadaisically floating by.
My friend muffles a giggle,
thinking I have drawn
a deliberate member
scraping the skies.
But I have drawn only a
tower, a lonely tower of
Babel surrounded not by
a city and its ambitious
builders, but verdant
black, greenery, devoid
of life. And it is in this
isolation that the tower
stands, speaking the
language of the world,
providing stairs to heaven.

My pencil doodle,
charcoaled by sweaty palms
lays there, smudged,
dirty, a tower rising out of
smog. It houses the world;
and sits on a page on my
desk, as I ignore my
theology instructor,
linking morality and religion.