One Lonely Cigarette

Have you ever seen a cartoon?

A red headlamp under the moon?

The small orange at the end of a cigarette?

Like the smokey cloud of text defining a thought that spells regret

Flowing aptly in the quiet of cricket chirps by a lake

Imagination in place of the memories we create

To live, is it better to have lived as a fake?

In the moonlight and the lime, with red cherry on the cake

A mistake and one avoided

To be toyed with

Till the end of outlined fate

In the box we did not create

A mold cast that will sit and wait

To be free of ➖

What is a soul?

If not the thought like an infinite hole

The fissure of omission

To throw a coin and put your wish in

Well, I wish you well

As I twist out these last embers

The smoke can never last

©️ The Sad Owl

Mistakes

I’d hear small quibble quick

Voices meek, weak a little sick

Wrongdoing, man is judged in his ways

The fruit of his doing, the words he will say

Small talks go on about

Large monumental actions

Unfounded and with doubt

Splits a race into factions  

Discrimination facing the faces

Dividing relations splitting to races

Leaving traces of civilization in places

Of ruins, this ancestral home belonged to them before

Have we forgotten or will we too know no more

Of this grave as we bury ourselves in this state of decay

Talks of bright futures fade, tomorrow will never be today

What will remain will be our remains that will stay

And on top of our soils we will be built on

The same as we have done

Time — it waits for none.

Dropped my Cassette

The echoes of eternity fade

My broken cassette

The recording that we made

must we go Let

voices Disappearing

for Cheering

dear Endearing

backwards Steering

Crashing

gone are We

still Going

destination Set

did you Forget

forgotten are We

lacking Memory

wandering Wondering

repeat Rewind  

© The Sad Owl

Be Kind

Be careful, what you say can be profound

Caution to the wind where the words lost are found

Unknowing, a mystery behold, futures unfold

Destiny a stepping stone, virtues of patience and gentleness

Dancing feathers buoyantly float; lightheartedness

Darkness, some feathers black; calamuses inked heavily

Write the words of thanks and love, complimenting wearily

Pending messages to the soul sometimes never reach their destination

Resignation told not by words or action; a life leaving to imagination

The hollow tips consume the ink till at last it is too late

Open air, the ink has dried; what is written becomes fate

I can only hope the words left behind

Some time long after mine are kind

Yes

I thought I heard a voice

Familiar in sound

Asking for a choice

Muffled words drowned

Dehydrated, my thoughts

Cloudy now tongue dry

Hands flailing poor fought

Losing this I try

Opportunity lost cannot be restored

Unsalvageable wreck will never float to shore

No more I said, no more

The sea water does not replenish

It only takes

Relentless, emotional blue menace

This sinking feeling leaves me defenseless

Shoreline grows further away

Over the horizon the sun fades

Even it becomes its prey

The ocean takes; no trades

No prisoners and no day

Night comes the stars play

Dancing on the dead

No.

I should have said

Cynical Editor

Untimely undone

Redacted finally retracted

It hurts

To play off the edge

and fall

Is the worst

Why is it so bad to bounce off of the words

Of those you admire, everything that you’ve heard

It’s true

A cynic that limits their humor to curs

What life is that I ask but a curse

Indirect statements deter

Further edits from what it infers

Rascoulous behaviour of a writer

Can no longer fight her

My editor is simply the best

© The Sad Owl

Sinking Cities

We reached —

Across separate shorelines

The same sea divided us

Breathing deep

We jumped at the same time

To swim if we must

The waves carried us

Further but also closer

Away from the shoreline now

In turbulent tides

I will find you someway somehow

We promised deep inside

We sank deeper into bubbles; permeated space

Frothing memories in our heads we create

Imaginations run wild, dreams of Atlantis interlace

Enclosed, as our hands locked and we came face to face

Reaching out into the dark we finally found a place

A home for the hearts that could not forget or erase

Sweet words unheard in sea water rest assured

The expression of our faces said it all

© The Sad Owl