Cold To The Bones

Wintertime
Cold and blackout time
People are starving
Thirsty and without a dime.

Pandemic time as well
As panic time
No light to heat
Food in freezer
Has gone bad
Since yesterday.

There should be a distance
Between people
Covid is still at large
Yet forced we are
Abandoning our shelters
For food supplies
And anything
That might warm us up.
Since what we had is perished
Due to lack of light.

But…
It’s not just us
It’s the whole community
We are all suffering
The big board game
The untouchables are playing.
We’re mere pieces
To toss and turn
To give some light
Or to freeze to death.

Zone of disaster we are called
Yet I see all of those big houses
With brilliant lights.
They tell us to unplug everything
They tell us to keep a low temperature
In our thermostat.
They tell us is our fault!

Yet…
I see those big houses
With Christmas lights
I see the businesses
Having their best time.

Is it just me?
Or is this
Just another political gamble
Just another way to torture
The masses in order
To win some big bucks
The old way…

I wonder…

Dirty House

By Rosalva Ruiz (SuperNova)

Is it the lack of will?
As I take part of the couch
I see the kids running
Screaming
Throwing legos around.

My head throbs
Poisonous cheers
Thorns prickling
My already wounded mind.
Bombs echoing my soul.

I take a look outside
The palms dance
With the beat of the wind.
Like two lovers embracing
Acknowledging each other’s presence.
Bodies entangled
And moving with ease
Circling with poise
What a beautiful sight.
My heart aches
Don’t know yet
If it’s by the lovely sight
Or the rumbling inside.

Teachers bleed their knowledge
I tell my kids “eyes on-screen.”
After a while
They get annoyed
And start hacking the system.
Two screens are shown
One with the teacher
The other
A youtuber it seems.

They forget
I know they do
So I become
That security guard
That unpleasant person
That keeps them on a leash.
I try my best to block
Their indifference
Sometimes
To the point of defiance.
My throat hurts
My heart aches
I block my tears.
They seem startled
For the moment
And back down temporarily.

I see my house being unattended
I keep feeling the urge
Yet they keep looking for an opportunity.
So I sit in this lousy couch
Like a watcher
Feeling insecure
Feeling the pressure
Trying to stop
Screams of joy
So the scholars pay attention.

This feeling of loneliness
This feeling…

I avert my gaze to the window
Once again
I see
Those dancing partners
I’m starting to envy them
Such lovely freedom.

I guess it’s finally getting me

This isolation

This impotence when it comes
To the school’s electronic devices.

The attention I give
To three different grade levels.

At the same time making
Food for them.

Trying to stop words
Coming out from their mouths
I have never said
In front of them.

All thanks to youtube
Thanks to the lack of admins permission
On the school’s electronic device.

Then again
grateful for this device
During these troubling times.

The pressure of them
Making a B or better.

It’s all scrambled eggs
Including the eggshells
They keep hurting
every time I chew and swallow.

I guess
Just like a dirty house
That needs to be cleaned
My soul
Also needs to be cleansed.

History In My Eyes

Life is but a book
The writer is but a politician
History is repeated
Just like any other book
The difference
Is the writer
The politician behind the pen
The plot is always the same
Sometimes well outlined
Sometimes lazy pillars
Either way
They both collapse 
In the reader’s eyes
Either at the middle
Or the end
But it’s always the same.
I see sickness of the mind
In these troubling times
I’ve seen how people
Get greedy with opportunities
I’ve seen a lousy storyteller
Light the last firework
To incite violence
And distract
The local readers. 

A mere copycat
Trying to rewrite
History’s thorn past.
Lost souls
In flames
In despair
Segregated
Malnourished
Hunger of hatred
Is what he seeks
Filming second-rate movies
For the world to see
Idiocracy at its full. 

And yet
I can’t seem to understand
The ignorant
I still can’t understand
The greedy
Much less
The influence
Of a mere liar. 

Is it sweet
yet stupid whisper?
Is a movie maker
More important
Than a leader?
Is a barricaded coward better
Than peaceful confrontation? 

Wake up America!
Terrorism is within
Is covered in fur
Doesn’t matter the softness
It was still teared from the prey!
Don’t shut your eyes
Don’t cover your ears
Don’t be distracted by lies
Don’t lose yourself in the fog.
Don’t
Please just don’t…

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: