second generation

person holding clear glass ball
Photo by Nizam Abdul Latheef on Pexels.com

 


i can hold my own in a conversation not in my language /
because i’ve learnt it, piecemeal, in response to demand /

but wait – it should have been my language all along, right /
and the fact that it isn’t /
is actually my fault /
and the fault of this (overly) free country i was born in /
and the fault of the experiences that just don’t seem to line up /

it’s amazing how wrong you can feel /
about your life that is supposedly so right /
and how you have to be a different person in each of your circles /
so that no one will know the many ways in which you don’t fit in /

it’s both maddening and heartbreaking to know /
that you’ll never be good enough /
for the people who supposedly resemble you the most /

nothing matters

lightning and gray clouds
Photo by Andre Furtado on Pexels.com

i never learn, do i

that nothing matters
except whether i stay true
to the belief that i’ve been
given to care for

and no achievements remain
except an even, thankful disposition
and unyieldingly faithful heart

i sometimes have you both
for a few moments before the scared
childlike parts of me resurface
seeking attention

 

 

 

swimming in the mall

divers-underwater-ocean-swim-68767.jpeg
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

the best place to remember and find myself is in the middle of a bustling mall
where the sidebench can be my armchair

and the pleasant scurryings of the shoppers-by
can be my rhythm and also my tide to swim against

~

it requires energy to swim against the current [of mental noise]

just as it takes energy to dive into your craft and find the place where
stroke after stroke, you and the activity flow together as one

and you no longer exist aside from the conscious being watching words appear,
watching lengths unfold

~

i’m swimming again, in the world’s sea, moving and remaining still

every blank page, every still mile of water is full of exactly the lifesource i need

 

i hope it’s clear that engaging here is as necessary to my survival as breathing

and in fact, i’ve already lost myself, blown off steam, given away my troubles, taken as many deep breaths as a yoga class could provide

i kind of can’t believe how easy it was to arrive here

~

the drive and requirement to be the best that i can be in turn requires that i pull away to rejuvenate, however selfish that may seem

i can rise to the occasion as required
and i believe i have it all in me
but i do not want to feel inadequate
for not rising to an occasion
that does not [currently] exist for me.

trip to the mall

crown group modern motion
Photo by Burst on Pexels.com

why should the act of wrapping two polycarbonate (read: plastic) pens in a brown envelope
and securing them with care and a piece of red tape
when no wrappings were required

be viewed as a new-age-post-sale-customer-retention-luxury-value gimmick?

should we not stretch ourselves beyond the ordinary everyday
to make the seemingly mundane seem less so?

~

the bright signs and well-lit displays
I might previously have seen as being pointlessly materialistic are now
easily, breathtaking reminders of the beauty of human ingenuity.

~

we will stop at nothing.

the fact that we can do it,
is reason enough to perform an act

isn’t it?