Let me feel-
Every inch of my body are all n u m b
I can't even feel my heart beating
I need a hand! I need YOUR hand!
But did you
     r e a l i z e ?

How my fingers just want to scratch every layers of my skin
How the paper cut scars wrinkles every surface of my fragile lungs!
How cacophony is the only scream that echoes on every hallway of my mind!
How hollow is my mind, to be able to hear each wails of my body parts?

Let me feel-
Let me feel! Let me feel! LET ME FEEL!
Cut me through your threads,
Strangle me by your wires,
Stomp me on your heavy metallic existence!


But,
        did,
                you,
                         l i s t e n ?

Outside And Inside

Outside a pigeon eats my crumbs.
We call him Walter
Inside hairy news continues.
Warm and numb,
I rustle up the casserole
To fill this hungry tummy hole:
Seoul, the polls…
Shall we succumb?
Shall they?
He wants to have it his way.  Is he playing?
You may ask, “Which he?”
There are so many he’s,
So many ****** he’s.
Walter pigeon loves his crumbs.
The lovely pecking beak becomes him.
He, so carefree, eating of necessity,
Unaware of death or of his iridescent beauty.
Me?
I carry on with poetry
While radio debates the possibility
Of war, annihilation,
Which or any winning nation,
Madly grinning dictators,
Bad, head spinning leaders…
Glad I’m cooking,
Looking out the window
At my Walter
Eating crumbs.

Walter Pidgeon (September 23, 1897 – September 25, 1984) was a Hollywood actor who starred in many films.

Outside And Inside 9.5.2017
Our Times, Our Culture II;
Arlene Corwin

Anybody who knows her
Understands she's not like the others
Head in the sky, feet on the ground
Detached when she speaks, cold she sounds,
But her heart is a warm place,
For those she lets in,
The select few see her distant but gleeful grin,
Aware she's different and that's alright,
Because this Nefelibata is always in flight
Head in the sky, feet on the ground
A nefelibata's mind knows no bounds.

Sometimes when I think
About people struggling
Pushed to the brink
I feel nothing
This isn't anything old
All I feel is cold

Emotion is fleeting
Happiness absent
Despair receding
My mind stagnant
Soul has been sold
All I feel is cold

Nothing is what's left
Gone are life's sparks
But I am not dead yet
A walking corpse
Emptiness uncontrolled
All I feel is cold

One you peered at and collected data on
in the confines of your tantrum
journal
You with your diamond eyes
Looking at me through
a purple looking glass window
haze and wondering
about me
It was a distant curiosity
Removed
Detached from itself
and from me and from all the loose
and heavy vessels
that connected us

They said my anger
was cold and distant
like a far reaching planet
I didn't understand
until I felt the heat
bubbling underneath
I felt it and I left it
and as time passed
the lava flow within
hardened into rock
cool, dark, volcanic rock
A permanent landmark
quietly intimidating
those who dare come close