My heart rains in smithereens like red confetti falling
From the crown of cumulonimbus heights.
Its shredded pieces fall in dizzy circles while
Trying to find the perfect landing on uneven ground.
My eyes are ajar like shutters to a vacant, soulless castle.
I’m not dead. I’m not alive. I’m existing.
A solid presence in an otherwise empty space.
But do not be fooled…
I am powerful.
Somewhere deep within this thick dark mass
Is a volcano ticking and awaiting
The perfect moment to exhale new lava.
Waiting to create continents of thought
Populated by change and reason.
I am a heart still beating after it has been cut out from the living.
I am the African Violet leaf that lives on
After being ripped from the mother plant.
I am the singing voice of an orphaned child.
Frank Malaba © 2015
Wow Frank. Wow. Seriously.
(in case you’re wondering who this is …. we met at the Waterfront in CT last year, I’m the ex Just Jinjer musician living mostly in the States)
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Thank you Simon. I’ve not forgotten you! I was wondering where you were! Thank you for your kind comment!
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I hope life is treating you well, that you are inspired and strong as the poem suggests.
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I am. Thank you so much. Bless.
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