Philly Forget Me Not

Ismoyo, Philadephia, 2018.

After months, question rises: starting with "What if?". What if, what if, what if your favorite movies turned into reality? Could you bear all the joy and pain at the same time? I wrote this poetry when I got back from States to someone that gave me this word. It supposed to be a gift for his upcoming birthday. I have nothing but words, so here they are:

"This is a sonnet about longing,

constant feeling that bonding,

of a man that content,

of a girl that fallen...

Misery redundant,

compassion above,

resenting wall, another pitfall,

everything in between seems worth thinking of,

in canonical universe, lights at town hall, upside down and back to the waterfront,

set your name and mine alone that seemingly despondent...

Earthquake,

seismic waves that make the ground shake,

like a heartbreak,

words after words as consolation,

as wishes or prayers whispered as namesake,

during smoke break,

we know for every time passed would be as worthy

as resuscitation...

I should stop here, as the fast train approaches station,

 we realized that there are things that should not be said and only be kept

because...

because...

because...

   just look at what nights

could do to us now

besides give birth

to hope?"

...because we have nothing but Hall & Oates, never-ending talking while waking in Philly until 4AM and words written both in one card and book, right?

Philadelphia, 8 July 2018