Sunday, May 3, 2015

Noel Negele- Two Poems

The Fuel.

To watch you cook in your undies
while I lie in bed,
the same bed we tried to become one
on so many many many occasions,
and we came pretty close,
maybe as close as it gets,
as I smoke another cigarette
and think
that there must be so many many many
people out there
that want to be in my place
at least for now,
as I watch your ass
divided into two hillocks of flesh
by that minuscule fabric
you call thongs,
about the poor black men
hiding in bushes
as other poor black men hunt them down
and burn entire cities to the ground,
about men on their knees
awaiting a knife to take their heads
like slicing a waterlemon
before handing the half of it out,
thinking about beautiful women
walking around like mummies
in lives
they will never trully get a kick out of,
about great men and women
that are dead
and that will continue to be dead
for so much longer
for longer than us,
all these humans
so many of them
so much worse than me
as I lie on this bed
examining the smoke as
it sails away from my mouth
and up to the ceiling
as you attempt to make me
by telling a joke
you heard yesterday,


wash me with your life
with your laughter
with your vitality and carelesness

because when I'm alone
the demons climb over the walls

but when I'm with you


Steady Holding On.

The orange rays of the sun
through the well fed clouds serenely floating overhead
warming the shy rain drops on the window
traveling in the room
bringing beauty and warmth
where you wait for help
where you wait for hope
where you wait for love
the orange rays of the sun spread over the ceiling
like an invisible brush tincturing life
you turn your head towards the window
far away, over the roof tops and beyond
cut in half by the horizon
between the corpulent clouds
the sun radiates
it seems as if it is trying to look at you
like a child jumping behind a row of people
like a child leanining in until it has a view of you
and the antennas are shadowed by the light
standing on the rooftops like rickety strings of a guitar
and the sound of the wheels on the wet asphalt
and the sound of life outside the house
and the field of color on the sky
and the new day
the new day
the new day...

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