This poem was for a Creative Writing class in which we had an exercise to list what we did in normal day. After coming up with a simple list I played around with verses to create this poem, as it reflected the feeling I had at the time. It was when I was just in a creative slump, my oldest brother had just moved out and things felt strange around the house. This was also when I spent hours on the computer just finding interesting things. and by coincidence I stumbled upon a site that shared foreign words that carried with them much meaning. From the list I choose two words that connected to how I felt, Jayus and Toska. This being said here is my poem.
 |
| Occupied streets that seems empty. |
Jayus
This
morning
working on
a poem
the mouse
clicks
as
animals do,
while my weary
eyes strive
to finish.
The
microwave beeps
And fills
the room,
with the
reward
of left-over
Chinese food
while the
T.V shows
reruns of
CSI, as promised.
Plastic
champagne cups
are
filled with water -
a sudden
shiver,
as spilt
ink forms faces
on the ghost
white futon
and coats
my fingertips.
I take a
shower,
like waterfalls
showering over
to refills
the prayer cups.
A faded
frame sit
as incenses
are lit.
Waving
once, twice,
thrice with
thoughts of family.
Lie down
on the
stained futon in malaise,
with my
thoughts
of my older
brother
moved out.
Starting
to print a
few poems,
with void
voices echoing
around
the table covered with
worn-out newspapers
and dusty books.
Seconds
turn into minutes, then hours, and
days start
to nullify here. Caught
in routine,
with plagued tasks.
But
maybe. maybe
it’s
necessary,
to stare
at oneself
in the mirror and
get
dressed, just
to sit with Toska.
Anticipating
the
oncoming day.
Stay tuned for the next episode.
Stay tuned for the next episode.