as usual
we are chatting
busy and
cramming for words
there is lucy
worrying about the next money to pay her mortgage of the house
there is manny
asking where to find a money lender to pay for his tuition
there is polly
worried about her husband's worsening kidney trouble
there is precy
asking if she can file an annulment
advices, resolutions, analyzing pros and cons,
and the consequences
like a radio program for the lost and the ignorant
i feel like i am a radio announcer somehow
yet everything went alright till the end of the night
then someone asks for a poem
to make him sleep
for he had not slept for days
and i preached: some things are meant only to be felt
no analysis, no logical explanations, no synthesizing,
some things are meant only to be seen
no words are useful to situations where the tapping of the shoulder
and the hugs and embrace can speak the most
comforts and understanding, all these are matters of the heart
the wars within with which words and even syllables become useless
i told him: breathe, breathe, breathe some more
breathe deeply and feel the expansion of your lungs with fresh air
back to the basics, the only way to live is to breathe
and the only way for one to sleep is to lay down in bed and then close
your eyes and then tell the world that now it is time for you to be excused.
yes last night i preached, and then i too closed my eyes and took my
much needed sleep.
life is simple. it is us. We complicate it. And then life has become unfair.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'life is simple. it is us. We complicate it. And then life has become unfair.' tinood jud...