The Cheerful Poem

 

I wanted to write something cheerful;

to welcome the new year gleefully

Took my phone out and started typing

” imagine with me a star filled sky

The color of galaxy purple and moonlight blue

Imagine a town with me and you

Imagine a place where we could be ourselves

Something cheerful

 

Okay

Imagine the ocean swallowing the earth whole

The fish swimming in our streets

The drowning of selfish deeds

The sky, still above us all

Imagine the earth in its honest hue

That of green and blue

And no humans

No me and you

 

Imagine not having to burry ourselves

Imagine not a blurry end.

Imagine imagine imagine

Because all the cheerfulness.

Lies in the future

The now is heavy with regrets

And hollow threats

It carefully treads

On the vows left unsaid

And the skin that doesn’t fit

Until the ground trembles and cracks

Suddenly holding still in its tracks

 

The now is sorry

Always apologizing for things out of hand

For days too bland

For holy books too hard to understand

It is sorry for every poem that sounds like a speech

It is sorry for all the time it is out of reach

It is sorry again and again yet too tired to preach

 

 

 

It tries

Stitches together broken ties

With scotch tape and staplers

Holds sky scrapers

In its hands

And whispers

 

I am tired

I am tired

Of watching the news

Tired of singing the blues

I am all consumed

There is nothing left to snatch

I am now made of patch over patch

little threads of words weaved together

I hear the sounds of the Athan calling me to prayer

But I am tired of Twitter Hashtags

Urging me to Pray for Paris or Baghdad

I am tired

 

The now, shuts its hands

Watches sky scrapers collapse

Traps people between its fingers

Laughs

Laughs at the ashes

That color the sky white

But somewhere, in the distance,

A rainbow kite

Colors the sky of an Orlando night

And Today

Today I swear I could hear

Syria end the fight

Today

Istanbul is a city of peace, again

Today

There are vine leaves growing

On the arms of the now

Swearing to forgive its every sin

Today

The now is dressed in new skin

This one has no blood stains

No chains

No feeble claims

No gunshots or grenades

This skin

is made of the future

 

About the Author:

Dana Seif is a poet, performer, social activist, graphic designer and aspiring writer. She is the founder and designer of The Poetry Passport. She spends her days finding cats to pet and stories to uncover.