Skip to main content

Timothy's Cabin

Today, it is someone else.

Through the thick curtain Timothy watches
His mother, building his future.
The man should slow down, he thinks
Maybe a little less rough, like the night,
But he goes on; And Timothy looks away.
He should act asleep, he knows
But the silhouettes dance like demons
Over the young eyes full of questions.
The lantern flickers its flame, but
Fails to hide the dark.
Timothy picks up a crayon, and thinks
How to colour the demon on his sheet;
'Will I put a smile?' he thinks, and then
Comes another muffled scream from behind
The curtains; Yes, a smile is needed, he decides.
The sheet is soiled, but he does not mind.
The man moans, sighs, and stands up
While Timothy wonders
What this final sigh is about;
The man walks out; Yes, a smile is needed.
Timothy draws a broad one on the face
Of his demon, and looks at his sheet
'Shouldn't there be many heads?' he thinks
When his mother comes and sits by his side;
Her lips bleeding, her neck bruised.
She gives Timothy some coins and says -
'You can buy new crayons tomorrow.'
The little cabin fails, again, to lighten up;
And Timothy knows, they need food
And clothes, and medicines, and shoes;
He knows that his mother's lips won't
Get any time to heal; He knows that
Tomorrow, again, behind the begrimed curtain,
There will be someone else.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Time Machine

As I face the small time machine And the wires cuddling each other Like sinners in love, I find my answer. 'Go back and save yourself', they say; 'Go back and this time get your girl' 'You can undo your bicycle accident' 'Why don't you edit your career now?' 'You can correct every error you've ever made' 'You now know what you shouldn't have done' 'Why don't you stop yourself from going To that coffee shop on the 18th of May?' 'Go back and post that letter a little earlier' 'Don't forget to slap that sick professor' 'Go back and tell your friend the truth About her husband, without any fear' They all want me to erase All the wrong footprints on The sands of time, and they want To have a better life, A corrected, proofread life, Using my little machine; But will I be the same person Once my mistakes get undone? I press the key, turn the dial And find myself befo...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Song Of Richard Brown

Watching the palette, spoke a bemused Richard Brown "Must I pour bright red all over your gown ? Make a soporific colour for your half closed eyes With thick oil and paints to blend your lies. Just above your temples a scintilla of violet And your cheeks below dry, no, maybe a little wet; The tranquil shade of the smile on your lips Hiding behind your nonchalant golden hair wisps..." The brushes of Richard Brown danced along And the cerulean composition became a song He watched beauty carve out of creative stains And from terra incognita came rushing his pains Washing his brush, said he in a voice weak : "Elizabeth, there's a promise you failed to keep. For now, you are looking into my eyes, straight A thousand years is perhaps a long wait In this picture shall I watch your eyes Never losing those dreams over the endless skies Look, your lips are red, brighter than the rose The song's been written, the diary's 'bout to close..." Standing up, Richard...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Story Of a Storyteller

"Once upon a time", began the blind old man "There was a sea as endless as time; and It reeked of stories of survival and death, But none could wait to watch the waves break. A sailor lived once, I don't remember his name, Whose skills did put the others' to shame; He'd conquer the sea, they would all shout And the sky would rumble at the scream so loud; That day, and the ones that had shone brighter Will be drawn by a kid and poetised by a writer- A hundred years from now, just a hundred wee years." "One fateful night, the storm wanted to play With the one little boat that struggled to stay Afloat; and the sailor heard his name loud and clear Shooting back from the hungry waves far and near. He kissed his oar, for the last time he could see, And closed his eyes to embrace the open sea. He was found a day later, on a plank, alive, But the rest of the boat was gone, like life. The sailor searched for her, from daybreak till night...
Post a Comment
Read more