Note on 22 May, 2019 12:09pm (GMT +2)
Before you begin reading this series of poems, I’ll need to first say that this is one of my most personal works. I never shared this series in full with anyone. Whenever I showed these poems, I only used to show number X because I consider it one of the best poems I’ve ever written. However, as I’ve soon begun to realize, the full power of that poem cannot be fully grasped without reading the rest of the poems and becoming acquainted with the recurring imagery that is contained within them. Also, there are many related poems and pieces of prose that I will soon be releasing in this blog as part of what I will call Whirlwind.
Note on 24 May, 2019 10:38pm (GMT +2)
Click here for Part II
The more I wait…
The more it engulfs me
The more I feel the clouds flying over me,
obscuring my vision –
replacing it with nothing but a silvery fog.
And from that fog, you emerge.
At once, I knew that nothing was the same.
But was it ever the same? What is even the “same”?
I saw you rushing into my life
like a whirlwind that never knows when and how to stop.
Your wind blows with the abandon of an uncorrupted child –
ever-curious and directionless:
the fog is our playground –
it exists beyond the when and the where
and it asks nothing of no one.
What have you done to me?
Was it a siren song I heard –
or the genuine call of a human
that sees in me things beyond my scabs and scars –
one who feels the pain inflicted by a father,
who sees us as little more than the last whimpers
of a life never lived.
In our screams and our pleas,
he hopes to see himself in us…
but all he sees is another human
When the fog cleared and the whirlwind calmed,
I wished for little more than their return –
for when I’m with you,
I’m both restless and motionless.
I don’t know where I am
but I know that I’m exactly where
I’m supposed to be.