I DON’T KNOW HOW NOT TO CRY
Poetry
He was driving us, when the Rainbow saw me.
The Rainbow saw me first, smiled and winked.
I screamed, when I saw the bowed smile
and colourful wink.
Like a man who ran over a man,
he was scared of my scream.
I traced his eyes to the Rainbow.
He traced his eyes to me,
like I was the lunacy he was running from.
My care was the cute gaze of the Rainbow.
It was a rich gaze, rich like the six-zero dollars
I snack from my work, every month.
His gaze became cute too.
My eyes got teary.
He walked into my posh glass office with blooms,
blooms of tulips and daises,
just the way I love love, in bundles.
I cuddled them from his warmth.
I stretched a satisfying sigh, with a sweet smile.
I sat down,
like I was sitting on the floating throne of the universe.
My eyes got teary.
His window was high and wide.
It lured a bird to nest and lay on it.
I sheltered the future chirps and chirrups,
rolled up in tiny white breakable balls.
Soon, on his careless watch, the future slipped.
The future died.
I was furious like a sandstorm.
He stood calm.
He let me circle him up,
with my dust and gust.
I collapsed into his peace.
My eyes got teary.
He walked the night street,
and I was his armoury.
The street had almost ran out of steps and heartbeats.
Just a few, hovering around us,
like waiters waiting on us.
I felt special,
like a guest of a fairy-tale night.
He looked like a knight too. I was smitten.
Then, a Rottweiler barked.
Like a loaded revolver, I rifled my reality.
He carted me into his carved bosom.
My eyes got teary.
He watched me devour and chew the words,
a billion times over, digesting them into my brain.
I never bob or nod to fear,
but his eyes lifted me on the stage.
My secured stare became his awe.
My audience became his face.
The crowd became my cheer.
He cheered too…
with pupils so chaste,
with a smile so meek,
an applause too faint, but heavy.
My eyes got teary.
He snatched me into his arms,
when I Queened down the stage.
He held me, so tight, so close, so warm,
for a million years, crushed into a minute.
His voice was smiling, as he quizzed,
“You’re the strongest woman I know.
Why do you cry over everything?”
My tears chuckled. I retorted,
“I don’t know how not to cry.”
One of the major deceptions in our planet says, “Tears mean weakness.” This deception always points to the woman, as a perfect example. This deception might be bold and loud, but a deception is nothing but…a deception.
© Deborah Woruka 2023. All Rights Reserved.
