By Zubair Ahmed
I create time
I cannot create time
I’m frozen in place
I cannot be frozen
I’m moving but don’t notice
I notice me moving, I pay attention
To the small yet immense yet
Small movements that guide
My limbs, my hair growth, my joint oils
I don’t think about it
I don’t feel it either
I don’t have emotions right now
I see films of divine quality
I don’t see any films
This not black
To me I am
I am not to me not
I walk with this hollowness
I walk with this blooming
I’m moving outward forever
Onward eternally inward
I create all objects like shampoos
And cats, I create nothing
Like space and antimatter
I resign to the clocks that keep time
I surrender to the clocks that don’t keep time
I’m sure about it, the color white
I’m not sure about it, what is word?
Oh, the loops and unloops
Destiny unfolds in my knees
I eat breakfast to begin the day
Source: Poetry (July 2017)
More Poems about Living
if time is queer/and memory is trans/and my hands hurt in the cold/then
there are ways to hold pain like night follows day
not knowing how tomorrow went down.
it hurts like never when the always is now,
the now that time won't allow.
there is no manner of tomorrow, nor shape of today
only like always having...
Here’s an Ocean Tale
My brother still bites his nails to the quick,
but lately he’s been allowing them to grow.
So much hurt is forgotten with the horizon
as backdrop. It comes down to simple math.
The beach belongs to none of us, regardless
of color, or money....