Before My Eyes

Things have been strange.
Jobs have transformed.
People have changed
to look more like worms
and less like athletes,
to do their daily work
with whitish soft-skin fingers
not knowing how to handle a simple tool
Like a screwdriver, for instance.

Things have evolved
and the planet looks like trash
we crawl on our bellies
licking the mud
where chocolate chips have mingled
with tears, cockroaches’ blood and peaceful piss.

(c) MK, 2016

A City Poem: Sofia

April Poem-A-Day 12 – City Poem

urban landscape
Image by eDamak

SOFIA
Even the snow is black
greasy with the tracks of tired tires,
rolling without an end –
day in, day out.

Twenty-four rush hours,
spilling in random precision
over boulevards like cold veins,
running along the hostile eyes
of office buildings and hotels.

Isolation stalks our smiles,
so we save them,
until inside gardens crowd our comfort zones,

as elevators hold our politeness –
small talk on the smoke area benches

in stark contrast with the social death outside.

©2014, soulmary

Featured image by Fmax here.

The river of innocence, the industry of fire, Magpie tale #116

[subscribe2]Magpie Tales #116

Are those tops
I see
the ones of buildings
plants
of industry
that glow in operative fire;
or treetops
burning sunset red? 

Is that river
I see
one of tears
or forgiveness,
maybe one of
innocence
flowing towards
the industry-subjected burners? 

All innocence slides off
to banks unseen
to heartbeats unexpected. 

Fear not
Appearance will hold
Much muddy water in. 

© 2012 Mariya Koleva

Image: River Irwell by R.A.D. Stainforth