None of these words in this poem mean anything.
An object so steady, can give such a rush
when I think I’m ready, to give life a hush
by closing my eyes and drifting to find
I am in a dream, where thoughts are so free.
The sound from a toy, that was made for more
will chime to remind, I am meant to find
the want to achieve, the goals I have seen
that keep me investing, until I am resting.
As I will live, this object will age
without ever showing a sign of decay.
Only the change, that comes with a season
will ever give reason, this object exists.
The way life will form, until it’s deceased
is the only way, I think it finds peace.
It’s always so busy, being so steady
we are never ready to say it will stop
from doing it’s norm of flowing unseen
until there’s a day, the normal is dead.
It is never sad, it is never mad
it is never happy, or even too sappy
it is only constant with doing its chore
of passing the time; it is such a trait, I truly admire.
If ignorance is what you choose to partake,
how will you know when a person is fake?
They can deceive you when you are in “bliss”
without even knowing you should feel their fists
that have been bombarding a hoard of defeat
on all of the happiness you truly seek.
It could be your friends or your close relatives
that continue putting your brain in a tiff,
see through the make-up that hides their true face
and keep yourself free from becoming their waste.
It may be hard to start looking in them
because what you find may be only so grim.
But keep your focus from looking away
so that you can read if they are meant to stay.
Do not expend more than your heart can spend,
because you may only end at a dead end.
Trust your gut for what is true
and always feel for what makes you.
Fairness and truth are what they say they do,
yet only their lies are their daily surprise.
Never believe what they push to be real;
keep your eyes on their acts, ’cause those are the facts.
A lesson that lessens the joy one can feel
is trouble that bubbles until it is real.
Anger should always be only a stranger,
yet sometimes the mind can be caught in this danger.
Finding a way to stay happy and play
will always remain the one best way to stay.
Not the false smile that tastes like its bile,
only the twinkle that comes the wrinkle
of happiness’ face that will never give waste
is the way to remain if one wants to be sane.
Once the fun gift of controlling the shift
that can happen when piles of steamy brown stuff
have been tamed by the brain that remains in the game,
life is the reason joy’s always in season.
Stroking the texture to feel on the keys
I missed every day I was within the streets;
hustling money to rest in a bed,
though every new day, I wished I was dead.
What is a life
when there is no joy,
what is a life
when your father’s no more,
what is a life
when you’re only a toy,
what is a life
when you pray for your gore.
The answer to such
is there is no rush
to taste on the life
that feels of such strife,
where trust is not found
and lies are around
to knock one off feet
and live on the street.
Yet there is a hope
and fruit for this man
that learned how to cope
with trials in land.
My father did pass
who I loved so dearly
yet I must fight on
so he can rest cheerly.
There were such bold lies
that brought me surprise
but I do not feed
the hatred some need.
My computer died,
my soul had then cried,
yet fight for this love
is what I have done.
So here I return,
to the paradise I know
where bliss will be earned
with every new row
of love from the keys
I feel with such ease
and press to help show
my writing will grow.
The new job I have
is what I will keep
for it has brought love
in knowing to teach,
it also has brought
a love to my life
I kiss every day
and rest in her sights.
She keeps me in joy,
even though we annoy; on occasion.
Yet the scales of this joy
far outweigh the gurr
that can make us stir
and our happiness coy.
We never forget
that we are both blessed
to be with each other
and call ourselves lovers.
Happiness was distant
and sadness was instant,
but fighting for better
has calmed down the weather.
Returning to paradise
was never a dream,
it was only a goal
that has been achieved.
Serena drifts through the gray buildings with her mind outside of her body. The dripping sound of water from the fire escapes above her are muffled by the horns and sirens on the busy streets of the city. She walks through the clouds of heat that are seeping through the cracks of manholes beneath her. Her eyes remain locked on the cement floor as her memory flashes a picture of her mother standing above her with an angered finger pointed at her. She hears the echo of her memory yell, “You’re nothing but a weak little mistake!” She sees that the ground has changed from a level surface to a dip into the street where cars are whizzing at the speed of impatience; she turns to her right and continues to walk with her thoughts.
That same memory yells, “You’ll only amount to anything if you find a strong man that you can manipulate enough to actually accept you! Maybe then, I’ll be able to say you accomplished something worth praising!” Her adolescent hands cupped her face as her sandy blonde locks covered the rest of her head. Uncontrollable tears leaked from the sides of her hands and caused more rage to curl the lips of her mother. Serena’s hands were jerked from her face as her mother yelled, “Oh I’ll give you something to cry about! You’re nothing but a weakling! You can’t even take some words before you dirty up my carpet with your tears! Do you know how much this costs, because it’s more than you’ll ever amount to!” Serena pattered her little feet as fast as she could to escape this torment called home. She heard her mother yell, “You can’t escape what you are to me!”
Before she knows it, she is back at her post on the top of an apartment. She scans the sidewalks and streets with empty eyes until she spots some masked people in a black wagon. The emptiness in her eyes fills for a closer look at these people. The car turns and blocks her view with its tinted windows. She squints and keeps her eyes locked on the car. The wagon stops and lets out its masked passengers. She sees four men run into a restaurant next to them in a hunched position to conceal something they are all carrying individually. As soon as the first one kicks open the door, she sees them reveal their semi-automatic rifles and fire in the air to get everyone’s attention. After she hears the screams, she keeps her eyes on the wagon as it drives around the corner and parks next to the building she is standing on. She sighs as she says, “Here we go.”
She leaves the off-white perch on the top of the building through the metal door with its alarm disabled. The elevator straight ahead is open, so she gets inside of it and holds onto the 1 button and the door close button. She doesn’t let her hands off of the buttons and watches the red numbers above the door countdown from 10 until they get to 1. She walks out of the doorway and briskly walks through the revolving glass door to exit the building. She scans rapidly from left to right and then trots to her right where she saw the car park on the street. She peeks around the corner of the building to see the black wagon still parked and waiting for his friends to finish their job in the restaurant.
Her memories echo, “You’re nothing but a weakling! You’re nothing but a weakling! You’re nothing but a weakling!” until she realizes that she picked up the lid of the trashcan on the corner of the street and slammed it into the window of the getaway car. The glass shatters and causes gunshots to emerge from within the car. The pedestrians around them sprint for their lives to get as far away as possible.
She thrusts her hand into the side of the villains arm and hears him scream after his arm snaps on the side of the door. She pries the gun from his mangled arm and pushes it against the area where the neck and chin connect. She feels him swallow deeply as she stares into his green eyes. She grumbles, “Get the fuck out of the car.” He starts to reach for something in the passenger seat, so she arms the gun with a click and watches as his eyes widen. The man puts up his hands and then opens the car door from the outside with both of his hands visible for her. He slowly steps out with his arms still up and gets on his knees as her free hand guided him to do. She sharply whispers, “Give me your mask.” He takes it off and reveals his angered face and brown hair. She bashes the gun against his temple and knocks him out.
After she puts the gun on her hip and his mask on her head, she throws him into the back seat and then gets into the driver seat of the wagon. She looks around to see if there is a timer of some sort for when he is supposed to go back. Then, she hears, “The eagle is ready to fly! Eagle is ready to fly!” through the walkie-talkie in the unconscious man’s pocket. She grins as she puts the car into gear and screams the tires towards the rest of the gang.
She sees everyone involved in the heist waiting on the street with bags full of stolen goods. She screeches to a halt, so they all hop in. She burns out again and then takes a sharp right away from the crime scene. The person in the front passenger seat yells, “What happened to window!?” She ignores him and keeps on barreling down the street at the speed of urgency. The passenger looks at the speedometer and sees that they are going over 90mph on a main street. He yells, “What the hell are you doing ma-” He takes a closer look at her and sees that she has boobs and a feminine figure. He points his gun at her head and yells, “Stop the fucking car or I shoot!” She grins through her mask and slams on the brakes as she slaps the gun forward. Bullets fly out of the barrel and cause the passengers behind her to reach for their guns. As her ears are ringing, she hits the gun above her head with the man still holding onto it and whips the car to the right. More bullets fire out to send jolts of adrenaline through her thirsty veins as she shoves the gun back. The barrel points at the person directly behind her and makes his insides visible on the backseat and passenger door. Shaky screams escape from his lips as she knocks the gun in a whipping motion to face the other person that is about to shoot at her.
The gun flies out of the person next to her’s hand and knocks the gun out of the potential shooter’s hand. The man next to her rears back his fist to strike her. She grins again as she slams on the brakes and makes him slam into the windshield. The person who was trying to shoot her, flies into the front seat and becomes tangled with his friend. She slams on the gas and tangles them together even more. The roar of the engine sends a shiver of goosebumps around her body until her hairs stick through the sleeves on her shirt. Pedestrians and vehicles whiz by the car faster than she cares to make out their different images. Horns flash by as the rise of the engine fuels her glands through the rumble beneath the gas pedal. The rumble of the pedal matches her heartbeat as her eyes remain locked on the building surrounded by cars that are black and white with the occasional grey vehicle.
She sees the gray steps that lead to their destination a hundred feet in front of them. She unlocks her door and slows down just enough to kick the emergency brake so the wagon whips up the steps as it screeches and hops while she rolls out of the car. The men in the wagon were able to grab onto their weapons, so they charge out of the wagon after they compose themselves with rifles in hand. She sprints behind the nearest building and hears gunshots searching for her. She exhales with relief when she hears, “Freeze!” from the top of multiple officers’ lungs. She peaks around the corner and sees the men holding their hands up with their hatred filled eyes still looking in her direction. A cop yells, “On the ground!” and approaches them with his gun pointed at the back of the man on the right’s head. She looks over everyone’s head and sees the Police Station sign smiling back at her. She looks back down at the captured villains and smiles when she sees the officers pulling the unconscious man out of the back of the wagon.
Serena takes off the mask and then makes her way back to the headquarters. She looks around to see the lively people pointing and asking, “What the hell just happened?”
Another person says, “It had to be an undercover or something. I’ve seen stuff like this on t.v.”
“Without a doubt.”
She giggles to herself as she shakes her head. Her mind is at ease when she sees the sun shining beyond the gray clouds above the city. She makes it back to the alley and enters into the headquarters. D locks eyes with her and says, “Glad to see you’re still with us.”
While smirking she says, “I still have work to do before I leave.” She grabs the gun that was on her hip and puts it on the main table as she continues walking to her room.
He smiles at her and never stops watching her. As she is about to close the door, he says, “Some food will be ready pretty soon. Do you have any objections to steak and veggies?”
“Nope. Just make sure my steak is rare.”
His smile never leaves as he says, “Yes ma’am.”
She turns with happiness as she closes the door.
A poem by Anwar YaDullah and Kari Putnam
Curiosity, a wink uttered through words
That never conveyed what great truth would be found
A truth between two
Has bloomed a gold hue
A glorious gold gilded in the warmth of caring and love
Causing a rhythm we dance to all day and night
Full of laughter and smiles skipping and whirling
Around our caresses that turn into kisses
Such sweet affection your kisses of confection
Have every intention of keeping retention
With such revelry and romance; my leaving there’s no chance
And staying with you keeps my feelings from through
Arm in arm and hand in hand
Feeling your presence is oh so grand
A joy I carry deep in my heart
Healing the soul from what was once some shards
Strong and well step by step I fell
Twirling in comfort until it’s a shell
The strength of love welds us together
Encasing a trust we feel ever better
A trust I’ve never had with another
A peace I’ve never felt with another
With comfort you rest in my heart
It’s the best way for a day to start
And a night to end
Without any end
A comment was left since you still take my breath without giving a sign that would cause me to wine to drown out all the whines that were always in chime from the chaos of searching for all that is you.
The thrill of the chase is what some said we crave yet the truth of the moments we share to this day still have us ever laughing and feeling the rays from warmest of glows that bellow from our growth inside our lovely gut that hath twined with no rut since hiccup has not come from this love that we love.
Grateful sounds wasteful but I cannot show or express all the breath that you stole from this wretch, so all I can say, or just write for your taste, is that I feel blessed that you warm me with love.
Whoever will know how we feel and we glow is no longer a fear, ’cause you are my dear.