Tears Poem by Ndeipanda Aindongo

I really wish i had an optical backdoor
so my tears would flow up and not down to the floor.
so they wouldn't form on one side a depth-less valley
and on other..strangely
A characteristically similar ridge
and leave in between an island paradoxically defined by the position of my eyes as a bridge.

if only tears where like random access memory
no backup or chance of rediscovery
so i could erase them all with a blink
then my eyes would defy gravity, like a faucet beneath a sink.

but nonetheless these tears, they soak up my sorrows
to lubricate the horrors
of both unseen and uncertain tomorrows
and as they flow they forge a path for me,
to pursue the dreams i wish to follow.
because if my eye sockets were as dry and hollow
as the persona of next colored guy with a pimped up VW polo
then the good parts i claim to have,
would be outweighed by those from demons unknowingly borrow.
so for the tearless, the boastful, the proud,
the none-crying crowd.
for fear of regurgitation please thoroughly chew on your pride before you swallow.

often you don't find emotional freedom, until you cry yourself a Red sea, part and cross it.
your stuck with emotional democracy
which is damn near lunacy.
so i cry to re-invent and liberate myself, OK i don't really cry
because society has drilled into me, that big boys don't cry,
real men bottle it up and painfully force tears back in.


but that's like saying, real men don't die
and at expense of PAC and Biggie, i bet to this notion fitty(50) would subscribe
and then go on to jokingly describe,
how he, being the realest cat
choked for every bullet 9 lives out of death,
and like fallen angels tryna escape hell, forced them back in...word?

but i can testify to the great healing powers down the corridor of introspection
and its always good when your tears are the sprinkler system
that quenches the flames of imperfection
which readily consumes the tearless with in-discrimination.

I see tears everywhere. I no longer need to envision,
because for some messed up reason they're all i see on television.
in the eyes of a Lil Syrian girl, recalling how as they played in the mud
A bullet pierced her friends cheek and made an exodus thru the back.
tears, stagnant on the cheek of a Jewish mother, narrating,
how a religious fanatic screaming Allah-u AKBAR! ! ! blew her only son to smithereens
as she looked on with her two daughters who are barely teens.
tears, rolling down the faces of African single mothers,
As they bring down walls of depression and rise high above theirs fears,
with tidal waves of Tears.
and all the while their children's paternal parental units drown,
in Tsunamis on beer.
I'm so good i even see invisible tears, in my mothers beautiful eyes
ever tearless, though sometimes secretly she cries.

tears of the old are like thunderstorms in late may...
like water reluctantly falling and ominous in every way.
strange though, one would think age would have accustomed them to life as it is.
then i realized there is no preventative measure at a tear's point of release.

that.s why since time in memoriam unto the end thereof,
tears will fall
with the easiest of ease.