Poezja

Recalling memories was difficult. 
I presume, today was not my day. 
Theme uprooted, I stood for the branches, 
the spirit, the truth, the roots. 
Do I see more than what was needed? 
 
Only eyes to eyes speak without words, sound, 
vision or reality. 
All the flowers have shed their petals. Now 
seeds are shining. I feel liberated. The 
faultline has defiled me. Bilingual insult. 
Time leaves the questions in air, suspended. 
You have to find the answers, yourself, in the 
debris of arguments. 
 
Bell’s palsy. Face, lips distorted, lids drooping, 
speech slurred, you clog 
the brain with help of anti-depressants, 
how many endings you have seen? 
 
I have not lit my dark cell, 
moonlight, mauls the window, 
jostles to enter 
hurts in my face!