Inktober 2020

My Inktober 2020 went well, but Instagram was just not the platform for my style of poetry. Cramming verses into a small square on Canva may make my work more popular but it looks shit and swiping doesn't bring out the flow the way reading does. Sorry Kween Rupi.

Here is a compilation of all the poems I wrote for the competition. I look forward to doing Inktober 2021 mostly on this platform. Many thanks again to Devanand for helping me pull 2020 off.

(Prompt List)

(Self portrait of the artist as a jackass)

October 1 - Fish

Somewhere between life and death
With a barb inside my head
I struggle to gasp a few last breaths
In a Paradise unknown to the fish eye lens.

(Phis! Written listening to MGK's Tickets To My Downfall.)

October 2 - Wisp

It has always been this way
Because this is how it has always been
A wisp of burnt justice floats
Above a mute crime scene

It has always been this way
Because this is how it has always been
The blood of the soil's children 
Waters the fields of greed

It has always been this way
Because this is how it has always been
The prophets are chained
The charlatans set free

It has always been this way
Because this is how it has always been
The spectacle of scandal
The skeletons unseen

It has always been this way
Because this is how it has always been
The trembling of indignation
Shaking the thrones of history.

(Written about the Hathras case. I was listening to Iqbal Bano's rendition of Faiz Ahmed Faiz's Hum Dekhenge and Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez.)

October 3 - Bulky

I asked the Moon why
She danced her dance with the Earth
She replied "In planets
Unlike in humans
The more bulky, the more attractive."

(Written humming Moonshadow by Cat Stevens.)

October 4 - Radio

Tonight you will fly, for country and family
I can't write, so take this as a memory
And if you ever wish to hear your wife
Tune your radio to the channel at night
As I call numbers to you across the sea.

(Inspired by the phenomenon of Numbers Stations. I was listening to Video Killed The Radio Star by The Buggles, CONET recordings of the Lincolnshire Poacher and the English folk song that station ruined.)

October 5 - Blade

It was a bog I floated through
To help the flowers grow
My wings were growing tired
It was beginning to snow

A cloying trace of hope
From what looked like a leaf
With an odd hair here and there
How my legs sighed in relief

Because someone has to do it for the flowers
Someone has to bring life where there is none
The others had stuck to the tulips and daisies
In the bright warmth of the winter sun

I searched for something sweet to scatter to the glades
I brushed against something and there was a whirr and a crack and 
The leaf folded itself around me, I flew into its blades
Banging against them screaming help help help into the silent marsh

There are foul juices slowly filling my green prison
I am exhausted and hoarse and nobee has called back
And for all my efforts I will be remembered as
The only Bee to be caught in a Venus Fly Trap.

(This was about jailed activists, written listening to I Fought The Law by The Clash.)

October 6 - Rodent

They say a rat chases cheese
I'd settle for a few crumbs of bread
Every night when the lights go out
And I crawl in the dark, sniffing

There is the cat who terrifies me, prowling
Other rats I love but could kill 
The tantalizing perfume of the poisons
The legs and blinding lights and death a phone call away

On my wall is a photo of Ratatouille
One of us who made it big
To him I raise my last crumb
And fall asleep at daylight

All I have is my body
How much can I consume
How long will I win
Till I lose

Humans eat cheese
Once a rodent always a rodent
All you win is bread
And a hole to live.

(RAT CAFFEINE!!1!
RODENT POWER!
BUMP BUMP BUMP
FUCC MEOW MEOW
YEAAAAAAAAAAAA)

(Written about Capitalism, listening to Ain't It Funny by Danny Brown and Lana Del Rey's Born To Die. Forgive the shitpost at the end, I was very sleep-deprived.)

October 7 - Fancy

I've been travelling a lot of late
Hurrying past the wincing crowd
Mask firmly wrapped around my face
With an increasingly heavy check-in
And a worn-out stamped boarding pass

It's fun to touch down in a foreign land
Until it isn't
The suits and ties and conferences
Then when it's over I'm packing
And looking for a way back home

Till then it's back to exchanges and hotels
Smiling stewardesses pointing at the exits
Honorarium for my troubles, a cut for the pimp
Another one for the diary
A couple of notches on the belt

I can't stay in one place, I'm too used to the airport
Clutching a backpack filled with notebooks
It's a routine now, smile at the poor stewardess
Buckle up and close my window and switch off devices
Ticket for one, on my flights of fancy.

(Daydreams can be the only escape from hardship, but they always will be fleeting. Written listening to Daylight by Joji ft. Diplo and Blinding Lights by The Weeknd.)

October 8 - Teeth

What would you say if you could see me?
You who have ruled the rivers
You who have grasped the mad elephant's teeth
With your ragged hair in a seafarer's knot

Would I, with my lifetime on chairs
A body unused to harsh jute
Engrossed in things that spoil with a drop
Would I seem weak to you?

Would it be a tragedy that the son
Of fresh and salt water
Would wear no cutlass at his side
And let his lungi flow to his ankles?

Or would you rejoice in seeing
The nights of reading and writing
The poetry that ebbs and crests
And the mysterious alchemy

Would I be Jamal
The learned man you wished to be
Who impressed you so much you took his faith and his name
And gave up your merry roving?

(This was about my pirate ancestor, who made a name for performing jallikattu on an elephant. Written to The Great Chinggis Khaan by The Hu and the US veep debate.)

October 9 - Throw

The wogs have thrown the whites out of Algeria
Now they have the balls to beat us at our own game
For the sake of the master race, Kameraden,
We must throw this match.

Throw the match in the name of Christ and Hitler
Throw the match for De Gaulle and his Occupation
Throw the match to maintain Rassenhygiene
Throw the match as the world falls silent in disbelief.

And when the last whistle blows we'll sneak back
As the fans wait for us with tomatoes in the streets
Our man in FIFA will shrug their shoulders for them
And the Algerians will be deported back home.

But every ill intended Blitzkrieg must meet its end
The silver bought with skullduggery and broken bones
The historian's shameful epithet and the memory of a people
The crowd of Gijon in our ears, roaring for Free Algeria.

(This was about The Disgrace Of Gijon. Ehh I was running out of ideas. Written listening to The Ballad Of '75 by Roaring Jack and Go On Home British Soldiers by The Wolfe Tones.)

October 10 - Hope

Happiness
Cracking like a false smile

Soft eyes
Going out like starving candles

Tired wrinkles
Riverbeds carved out by erosion

Lips chafing white hard
With the ever-returning winters

Hearts searching for hope
Where there is none.

(This was inspired by the ideas of Arthur Schopenhauer and Antinatalism, written listening to Bruce Springsteen's Darkness On The Edge Of Town - especially Racing In The Street and Factory.)

October 11 - Disgusting

They're all perverts I tell you
Ooh with their shrivelled penises
Which define them sister
What are people but genitalia
And penis is man and man is scum.

How dare you – YOU! – with your one X
Make your home in heavenly womanhood
With your manly estrogen in your veins
Because you once had a T and T is for (cis!!) men
And men were made by Yakub on an island.

Science? I don't trust all that politically correct
Postmodern Cultural Marxist (((science)))
With its (((papers))) in its (((journals)))
What does science know about holy womanhood
The sacred eucharist of Greer Christ.

Oh I HATE them, sister, they don't know
What it means to face violence and death
I will drive them out when they come in from the rain
And if you stop me you're a misogynist homophobe
Yes I'm RadFem and proud, and I don't like tra-THAT'S A SLUR

I don't care what you men think, or you traitors to the Immortal Vagina
Or you degenerate liberal leftists or you fucking idiots with PhDs
I consider them disgusting and so do my friends on this obscure forum, freedom of speech!
And we will doxx and smear and deadname you trans extremists if you don't shut up
I am woman, hear me roar – and catch me with Ben Shapiro today at 5 PM on YouTube.

(This is a satire of TERFs - Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminists - and some of their arguments, especially the whole obsession with men and genitalia. Your disgust doesn't invalidate someone's existence! Written listening to Baby I'm An Anarchist by Against Me! and T-Shirt by Left At London, both incredible artists and trans icons.)

October 12 - Slippery

Every slippery slope begins
With a few firm steps.

(Don't dance on the edge of slippery slopes. Written listenin to I Was A Teenage Anarchist by Against Me! and Can't Hold My Liquor by Kanye West.)

October 13 - Dune

Estranged lover of mine
Hiding behind clouds of unknowing
Leading me through tracts
Amidst the dunes of the deserts

Leave me in despair and ruin
Searching for a Golden Calf
Something to replace the emptiness
Inside a damned man

Estranged lover of mine
Who hurts me so bad
With all the best intentions
Wandering crying "touch me not!"

Who drives me to drink and to sobriety
Who in the intoxication and darkness
Billows the sail and weighs the anchor
In overwhelming heat and bitter cold

Estranged lover of mine
The desert is traversable for sure
But I ask in my parched croak
For an oasis or a ticket home

(What is it in the sand of Arabia that birthed three global religions? Inspired by Sufi poetry, including my friend Hamza Badsha, and written listening to Leonard Cohen's Old Ideas and Popular Problems as well as his live performance of Lover Lover Lover, and Wine Into Water by T Graham Brown.)

October 14 - Armor

When the smoke of the last shell clears at dawn

As the Katyushas shriek their battle cry overhead
When the sergeant with raised pistol screams the charge
"Onwards, comrades, not a step back!"

Will you stand firm with me, comrade?
Will you charge at Hell with your Pa-pa-sha?
Will you hide in your nest as the howling shells fall
Steady crosshairs on a shadowy steel helmet?
Will you fly with me, comrade?
Will you ram your burning plane into the enemy?
Will you sneak with me in the dead of the night
To cut the wires and break the mines?

Will you become the ghost in the forest
Who feasts on every careless fascist?
Will you drive life across the frozen lake
Will you play with the starving band?
Will you punch your tank through the lines
And break the spine of the Devil in your embrace?
Will you kick the foreboding gates open
Will you stomach what you see inside?

And can you take the death of surviving
The guilt of your armor holding firm
When your comrades turned into skeletons and photographs
And the only rattle is the city tram?
Can you take the utter silence?
The hushed respect as you pass the children
Who play war in the Moscow street
Bang bang, Dima I hit you you're dead.

In those darkest times, as the rats swarmed over the body
Of the Mother-Land of the People, denuded, sobbing
Devouring and defiling every scrap of flesh in bestial fury
Your grandfather cut her loose in his T-34.

Yes, he chased the rats to their despicable little hole
And there he caught each one and drowned them
He burnt the hole to the ground and scattered a heap of rat poison
And then he went home.

He doesn't talk about it much and the thunder still frightens him
And he moans in his sleep and sweats and clutches his cross
So don't mention the class on Auschwitz to him at dinner
Where his soul was sacrificed so ours could live on.

(This is a tribute to the brave Soviet people who fought against the Nazis. Inspired by the film Come And See and written listening to The Sacred War, Let's Go and March Of The Soviet Tankists by the Red Army Choir.)

October 15 - Outpost

Here I am in my outpost silent
No pawn can threaten me
Watching the battle with my telescope
At some point it'd reach my tower
I hope HQ gets these notes by then

The loneliest soul alive is a spy
The lonelier he is, the safer he is
As he jots his observations down
Who'd ever love a spy?
Who'd ever be loved by a spy?

(This was written amidst the Tanishq controversy, yet another reminder how Indian Muslims are being othered in every single way, and how lonely it can get. Written listening to True Trans Soul Rebel by Against Me!, I Am A Rock by Simon & Garfunkel and Own Light by Brother Ali.)

October 16 - Rocket

Wherever I saw evil grow I uprooted it
Burnt it like a freshly harvested field
And grew from it golden freedom
They converged on me from all sides
And I set them all to rout
With sword and cannon and musket
Elephant and horse and the trusty
Iron Mysorean rocket.

I followed in the footsteps of my noble father
As in, right behind the British and their friends
Right behind the rogue Brahmin and his vassals
Pausing only to give the denuded woman my turbancloth
And set off once in pursuit of justice once again
With my sword and cannon and musket
Elephant and horse and the trusty
Iron Mysorean rocket.

The emissaries talk of Republicanism in my court
How the oppressive King was guillotined by his people
And Napoleon's men mauled the kings of Europe
I cannot plant such sense in the soil of Mysore
That my subjects may feast on it evermore
All I can do is fight with sword and cannon and musket
Elephant and horse and the trusty
Iron Mysorean rocket.

I am outflanked and I know my time here is bought
But Paradise is beyond the reach of Clive's men
And the pen will persevere through the winds of history
And when they try to stand over my people
They will be met with swords and cannons
Muskets and elephants and iron rockets
And after all that, the flesh and bone
Of the Lion of Mysore.

Look for me in the evening, with the others
Watching over Mysore from the ramparts of Seringapatam
Watching over Malabar with my friend Mahabali
Laughing with Shivaji as your new masters fume at me
The name that still strikes such terror in those bloodsuckers!
And at the children with their signs and slogans and – it's called swipeable IG posts right?
God Bless them, including this idiot poet summoning me for advice when it's so simple
Try this bad boy. Solid Mysorean iron. See carefully, this is how you…

(This is almost the flip side of the last one. A tongue-in-cheek poem inspired by General Sherman memes about the great Tipu Sultan, the progressive, abolitionist, republican scourge of colonialists and casteists. Tipu, known for his use of history's first iron rockets, is far greater than the idiot Sanghis trying to besmirch his legacy because he was Muslim. Written listening to Battle Hymn Of The Republic by the US Army Choir and Union Dixie and Marching Through Georgia by Tennessee Ernie Ford.)

October 17 - Storm

Here comes a storm again, unlike the storms before

Yet so familiar. Here's how it goes:

First shit goes down and everything else goes up

Then there's this calm where things aren't that bad

And then it starts again and rattles the windows

Then at some point things settle and you get up

Have a laugh at the destruction and look for food

Then comes the rebuilding. Slow, painstaking, frail.

And then things become normal. ish.

And then the monsoons bring the next storm.

(Oh well. Written to Tornado Of Souls by Megadeth and Shelter From The Storm and A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall by Bob Dylan.)

October 18 - Trap

This game both you and I adore

This war fought over a small board

But what's the point in all that

When some sneaky opening trap

Checkmates me on move four?!!

(The rite of passage for every beginner in chess is falling for the Scholar's Mate. The drawing is about the Christmas Truce of 1914. Written listening to Da Mystery Of Chessboxin' by The Wu-Tang Clan and Location by Khalid.)

October 19 - Dizzy

Children play on grass

Spinning fast out of control

They fall down dizzy.

(Life is so prone to spiralling out of control so suddenly it's dizzying. Written listening to The Passenger by Iggy Pop And The Stooges, Mr. Brightside by The Killers, I Write Sins Not Tragedies by Panic! At The Disco and Cult Of Personality by Living Colour.)

October 20 - Coral

A lone ship flying the English colours

Running a foot through the sea

Calling out in a panic to the gods 

I threw a message to the fish with a prayer

Who scrawled it on all the coral of the Caribbean

So that an angel may read and take us home

Death and dysentery and the painful smell of salt

The white devils who tend to this depth of Hell

The promise of life so powerful, and the noose of debt

The stars winking malicious as we crossed the Forbidden Sea

Here in the Habitat of the Houglies, the Whip reigns supreme

The rubber and rails and rain and the broken bodies and misery

The tiny shadows bent over in the dawn light with their burden

Some of them run away in the Earthly plane, and are punished

Some make their escape to the Heavenly plane as a worrying statistic

Sometimes I wish I could be brave as the hushed awestruck rumours 

Of men slaying the devil in his den with machetes and matchsticks

All I can do is castrate the roots of the fresh saplings and hope

The ships stop docking and the Negro of Haiti come down from the sky

Pray the children burn down the plantations and return to free Kosala

Coolie Kings cleansed and coronated in the waters of the coral imaginary.

(This is about the British indentured labour of Indians that replaced the slave trade, with similarly terrible conditions. Dedicated to the teaboos who claim Britain abolished slavery bEfOrE aNyOnE eLsE. Inspired by by the imagery of Alex Haley's Roots and written listening to WAV Files by Lupe Fiasco and Mujh Se Pehli Si Mohabbat by Humeera Channa and Nabeel Shaukat.)

October 21 - Sleep

Look out for the day when the beast awakes

Beware the masses arising from their sleep

Prepare your weaponry for the class war

Your sleeping pills and TV screens hypnotic

Here comes Madame Guillotine

What side will you be on when the dam bursts?

Will you be in the piles of dead and living pushing

Or the concrete of the pacifists and policemen?

Will you flow with righteous anger at the barricade

Or will you be swallowed by Lake Guillotine?

(Written after Bolivia decouped and sent Elon's stock plummetting. Inspired by El Pueblo Unido Jamas Sera Vencido by Inti Illimani and written listening to The Guillotine by The Coup, Down Rodeo and Wake Up by Rage Against The Machine and Which Side Are You On by Pete Seeger.) 

October 22 - Chef

First the saucepan of the medium

Atop the flames of the creative spirit

Add the water of experience

Then the stock of style

Let it bubble under careful stirring

Now something to make it sweet or salty

Accordingly other ingredients, mix well

Pour into the final form, let it settle

Serve it warm with a garnish of technique

And hope for compliments to the chef.

(Writing poetry is exhausting but cathartic. Written listening to Paper Planes by M.I.A., Pursuit Of Happiness and Day N Nite by Kid Cudi and Kyle's Mom's a Bitch by Eric Cartman of South Park.)

October 23 - Rip

Shadows dancing in the night

Ripped apart and put together by streetlamps 

Till the scars turn into brushstrokes

Till the sun rises in the West

And everything becomes clear

Until then, lift a cup and sing with us

Sleep has fallen on the sleeping

The stiffening sins on the heart lift

Worry not about the day coming

The night has its own dark beauty.

(The night is beautiful and a solace from the turmoil of the day. Written listening to I and Bitch Don't Kill My Vibe by Kendrick Lamar, Money Machine by 100gecs and Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley, the latter for obvious purposes.)

October 24 - Dig

Sometimes I wish I could dig my own grave

Hop inside and bury myself safe

And no more will people bother me 

And no more will memories haunt me

With the darkness of finality for solace

I put a hand on the pit and peeked outside

There were dark clouds swimming in the sky

There was the cold rain and the rainbow

There were bright berries in thorny hedgerows

I pulled myself out and cracked a weary smile.

(Pain is awful but a new direction for growth as well. Written listening to Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band's Letter To You, Overstand by Dead Prez and Marciano's Reign by Jedi Mind Tricks ft. Scott Stallone.)

October 25 - Buddy

Here I am, drink me

I'm your bestest buddy

You've seen me on the TV

I've been in bed with you for years

In your headphones and books

In your head heart and everything else

I've become the air of this musty room

I've become the mirror of Erised

You can test me if you like

Feed me to the cat and watch

Drink, raise a glass to the room and toast

Mix me with something bubbly

Keep a few salty snacks for the moments between

Deep gulps from the cheap plastic cup

I'm your friend, you can trust me

And if you should suddenly choke and cry

The fifth bullet in a six chamber barrel

Or choose to drive back home on the highway

Or find yourself in a bathtub with a stitch for a kidney

I'll flow from the shattered shards on the floor

Here I am, a calling for the exposed, vulnerable

The personal therapist to the night-people

The last downfall, the judge's stern death sentence

The hug of the kindly Angel with his pen at the ready

Here I am, the hammerblow of Fate. Drink. Drink! Drink.

(Beware of the dopamine rush, it can warp your sense of self-preservation and make short work of an already fragile mental state. So many beautiful, flawed people give in to alcohol and addiction and fall hard. Then again, who wouldn't want to escape a painful existence, if only for a fleeting moment? Written listening to Lucille by Kenny Rogers, Vincent by Don McLean, Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac, Hurt by Johnny Cash, Carnival Of Rust by Poets Of The Fall, Hotel California by The Eagles and Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen.)

October 26 - Hide

Hide me.

Hide me when the Gestapo walk the train

Searching for a new flea to crush underfoot

Hide me for your own moral reasons

Breaking the bonds of the golden Price rule.

Hide me.

Hide me when the sweep of the reaper

Starts eating up the cornfields we hid in

Hide me from the battering rain and worms

Shelter me from the lightning and thunder.

Hide me.

Hide me in a casket and float me down the river

Send someone to follow me just to be sure

Hide me, shield me from the scattered bulletholes

Hide me from the tumbling pieces of the concrete wall

Hide me I suppose.

Hide me if you feel it necessary

Hide me if the power fails suddenly

Hide me hurriedly if they step inside

Hide me at a rate of 3 RM per hour

Don't ask me what I'm doing, getting up and stretching

I want to eat a sandwich in the sunlight in the carriage door

You've been good people, and I thank you for all you’ve done

But I'm tired of hiding, so I must bid goodbye

Hide yourself.

(Happiness is revolutionary. At some point you have to stop worrying and hiding, get up and find the sunlight. Written listening to Ain't No Love by The Bobby Blue Band, Life's a Bitch by Nas ft. AZ, A Change Gonna Come by Sam Cooke, Wake Up Everybody by The Roots x John Legend ft. Common and Melanie Fiona, Heart Of The City by Jay-Z, Paranoid by Black Sabbath, Hell's Bells by AC/DC and Stairway To Heaven by Led Zeppelin.)

October 27 - Music

Music is me, I am music

The harmony in my body

The breath and blood of music

Music is my life support machine

And I try to repay it with my woes

Music is all the tired people

Music is their anger and the happiness

Music is anti-depressant and therapy session

Music is the slave chanting his message

Music is the other slaves chanting back

Music is the comfort food of life

And if it isn't, it can't be music

Music is revolution, music is uprising

Music is birth and rebirth

A hurricane of light in a tired mind

Music is a shelter to the baggy-eyed

Music is solace and anger and poetry

Music is a lifeline in a painful life

Music is a warm hug across the oceans

Music is humanity.

(Music has kept me going through all sorts of shit. I used to shake it all off by plugging in and taking long walks in the mist on the bright empty roads of NISER, writing poetry if an idea came to mind. Written listening to Hip-Hop by Mos Def/Yasiin Bey, The 6th Sense by Common ft. Bilal and DJ Premier, On My Block by Scarface and Brothers In Arms by Dire Straits.)

October 28 - Float

The winds whipped across our terrified faces

And we fell into the yawning pitch blackness

Cutting through the French night, floating down

Then came the terrified zombies of Satan's dreams

Amidst the deafness and the shells and sheets of fire

Then we were floating again into the tulips of Holland

The Communists cut the wires and a bridge was taken

Floating through the waters with a rifle and a Hail Mary

Oranges ammunition Bibles grenades and blood

To open a road to the trapped British and Poles

Then we were the ones trapped as the tanks rolled in

No falling, no floating, just snow and the usual fire and death

The hand that stopped Hitler's last dice roll

Santa rolling up with booze in his M4 Sherman

As the Soviets launched us a New Year's Gift.

Then we walked into the depths of Hell

I suppose you could call it Dachau, the name gives me the creeps

Not a soul did it not taint with its decaying touch

And we brutalized the bastards who did it, made them scream

But I can't escape the sunken eyes in my dreams.

We did all this to defeat fascism forever

We tore them apart limb from limb, burnt them alive

We let them know bombs don't discriminate uber from unter

We all died in some way, but that damned flag has returned

Do you fools think it'll go away with a vote?

(To defeat fascism, you must do far more than just vote for lesser evils or debate - you have to fight, the way the men of the 101st Airborne did, seeing action across Western Europe. Written listening to The Marseillaise as performed by Mirelle Mathieu, Battle Hymn Of The Republic as performed by Odetta, Shot In The Dark by AC/DC, The Internationale as performed by the Red Army Choir and a bunch of Sabaton songs - when they hit the mark they really hit it, don't they.)

October 29 - Shoe

Sometimes a shoe doesn't fit
And you don't bother trying it on

Sometimes the shoe fits
But pinches and burns

And sometimes
The other shoe drops.

(At some point, the other shoe drops. Alas, it sails past George W Bush's head. Written listening to Fast Car by Tracy Chapman, Changes by Tupac Shakur ft. Talent and Juicy by The Notorious B.I.G.)

October 30 - Ominous

Ominous are the hearts of men

Looking for a chance to kill
Ominous are the hearts of women
Looking for a chance to kill
Ominous are those in between

Ominous are the people who laugh

Ominous is my own heart and tongue

Ominous are the graves they dig

Ominous are the screens and pages

Ominous is the mask I wear each day

Ominous are the shadows dancing behind

Ominous are the vices that close around

Ominous is the noose and the bottle

Ominous is the look on the master's face

The ominous thunderclouds gathering fast

Ominous is the prophet building an ark alone

Ominous is the parachuted dark shape in the sky

Ominous are the raised swords in the street

Ominous is sin and good deed and the promise

Ominous is enemy and ominous is friend

Ominous is hope and ominous is fear

Their dance in the caverns of the eternal

With careful surgery they can be removed

And after a few days in the hospital recovering

Ominous is no longer ominous.

(Everyone and everything is scary and it can all be too much but you get used to it. Life doesn't get any easier, you just get more Albanian. Written listening to Many Men by 50 Cent, Affirmative Action by Nas ft. The Firm, Survival Of The Fittest by Mobb Deep, Lost Ones by Ms. Lauryn Hill, Last Donut Of The Night by J Dilla, Kids by MGMT, Sunflower by Post Malone ft. Swae Lee and Sicko Mode by Travis Scott ft. Drake and Swae Lee.)

October 31 - Crawl

Crawled in like a child

Birth, pain, fear, lessons and death

Crawled out like a child.

Life is a cycle of cycles. Punctured cycles, rusty cycles, cycles with hard seats that poke, the works. Written listening to Runaway by Kanye West ft. Pusha T and Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd.)

Bonus Poem!

Fish drowning in the pristine air

As wisps of clouds waft by

A bulky radio rests precariously

On the dancing blades of grass.

A rodent pokes his head out of his hole

Gazing enviously at the fancy spread 

Clicking his teeth in anticipation

They'll throw him a scrap, he hopes

They think he's disgusting, he doesn't care.

Slippery dew shines as the children play explorers

Wading through jungles and dunes in the park

With a stick for a sword and a bin cover for armor

A watchful spy tracking them worriedly from her outpost

Hoping things go from jousting to astronauts and rockets

Before the blows turn into the inevitable storm of tears

Humans bring sugar. Sugar brings flies. Flies fly into her trap.

She waits patiently in her fragile gossamer dress as they get dizzy.

Worn out coral and jade rest dull against flesh as they fall asleep.

A murmured compliment to the chef in his ripped blue jeans.

She watches patiently as the black and green sea settles to dig in

On the crumbs and the cream and the wet nose that jerks up at "Budd-ee!"

Time is on her side. She hides as they scatter. They will return.

They hum the strange music humans hum when dormant

Bubbles float by on the burbling young stream, always in a hurry

Shoes at their side and books face down on their stomachs

The rodent flashes an ominous look as he slowly crawls forward

The sun shines as it always does, but the Earth is shy

The bones and bread lazily scattered over her skin

There will be storms and the sun will turn rogue sometime

But for this fleeting moment, there is peace.

(I wrote this using every prompt in Inktober. Am I good or am I good hehe. Written listening to Dua Lipa's Future Nostalgia, Juice by Lizzo, Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell, Rocket Man by Elton John, Piano Man by Billy Joel, Elastic Heart by Sia, multiple songs by Fun. including Carry On, Green Light by Lorde, Black Me Out by Against Me! and Born To Run by Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band.)