Mango Resistance: A poem from a prompt (10 Minute Sprint)

I’m not as still as you want me to be

Supposedly, I have rage underneath

Come closer,

the surface glides but the shades and the tones they skip

like rocks over the water and dirt cycling into the blades of green

I’m not as smooth as you’d like to believe

lopsided beating heart racing to burst at the gleams

and everybody belongs to the lines and

object to the grooves and oh, so disapprove of my

piously round and

unabashedly scandalous

shaped obstination

curvature, foul and indentured

soulful as fruit on a useful, yet lifeless plank.

j

Procedure (Break Time Poetry)

In the valley of fluorescence
a narrowing conch
hiding a benevolence
underneath and above and outside of the things that limbed creatures should be doing
outside of myself,
looking down as a figure that knows not how to fly, mostly hover;
translucent
and afraid of what will happen
when the wind picks up
and retrieves
the rubbish
all around.
“Is this my place? Up here,
down below? A few steps to the left, or the right?
Is there policy for this direction forthwith?” No procedure for this.
And in my bedhead,
translucent as well, and loud to the touch,
these fingers,
these broken pointers
can no longer heal or cause
a damn thing.

j